
iA'V’v 

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LIFE. 


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TRIED FOR HER 


A SEQUEL TO “CRUEL AS THE GRAVE.” 




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BY MRS. EMMA D. E. N. SOUTHWORTE. 


AUTHOR OF “ FAIR PLAT,” “ HOW HE WON HER,” “ CHANGED BRIDES,” “ BRIDE’S FATE,” 
*‘CRUI;L as THE GRATE,” “THE HAUNTED HOMESTEAD,” “RETRIBUTION,” 
“THE LOST HEIRESS,” “THE FORTUNE SEEKER,” “ALLWORTH ABBEY,” 
“the CURSE OF CLIFTON,” “THE MISSING BRIDE,” “THE TWO SISTERS,” 

“ THE BRIDAL EVE,” “ LADY OF THE ISLE,” “ GIPSY’S PROPHECY,” 

“ VIVIA,” “ THE wife’s VICTORY,” “ THE MOTHER-IN-LAW,” 

“ THE THREE BEAUTIES,” “ THE DISCARDED DAUGHTER,” 

“ THE FAMILY DOOM,” “ THE MAIDEN WIDOW,” 

“THE DESERTED WIFE,” “LOVE’S LABOR WON,”'' 

“ THE FATAL MARRIAGE,” “ THE WIDOW’S SON,” 

“ FALLEN PRIDE,” “ PRINCE OF DARKNESS,” 

“ BRIDE OF LLEWELLYN,” “ INDIA,” 

“ THE CHRISTMAS GUEST,” ETC. 




c 


■Well may tVie dews of torture now 
Hang: bead-like ou<her straining brow. 

Well may her spirit shrink. 

’Tis hard in youth to yield her breath ; 

To die in thought is double death, 

Shiveriug ou Fate’s cold brink. — M ichell. 


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PHILADELPHIA: 

T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS; 

306 CHESTNUT STREET. 




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by 
T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS, 

In the OfiBce of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 


MRS. EMMA D. E. K SOUTHWORTH’S WORKS. 

Each Work is complete in one large duodecimo volume. 

TRIED FOR HER LIFE. A Sequel to “ Cruel as the Grave.'' ^ 
THE FAMILY DOOM; or, THE SIN OF A COUNTESS. 
THE MAIDEN WIDO W. Sequel to “ The Fa^nily Doom." 
CRUEL AS THE GRAVE. 

THE PRINCE OF DARKNESS. 

THE MOTHER-IN-LAW. 

THE THREE BEAUTIES. 

THE DESERTED WIFE. ' 
THE CHANGED BRIDES. 
THE BRIDE' S FA TE. SE Q UEL TO CHA NGED BRIDES. 
THE BRIDE OF LLEWELLYN. 

THE GIPSY'S PROPHECY. 

THE FORTUNE SEEKER. 

THE LOST HEIRESS. 

THE CHRISTMAS GUEST. 

THE BRIDAL EVE. 

THE TWO SISTERS. 

FAIR PLAY; OR, THE TEST OF THE LONE ISLE. 
HOW HE WON HER. A SEQUEL TO FAIR PLAY. 
THE FATAL MARRIAGE. 

THE HAUNTED HOMESTEAD. 

LOVE'S LABOR WON. 

THE MISSING BRIDE. 

LADY OF THE ISLE. 

THE WIFE'S VICTORY. 

FALLEN PRIDE; OR, THE MOUNTAIN GIRL'S LOVE. 
INDIA: OR, THE PEARL OF PEARL RIVER. 
VIVIA: OR, THE SECRET OF POWER. 

THE CURSE OF CLIFTON. 

THE DISCARDED DAUGHTER. 

TEE WIDOW'S SON. 

r. ' 

• •*••***»,* J *• * * * * • • » • 

Price of each, $1.75 in fclotli ; or *$1*50 in Paper Cover, 

•*: •*: **i ;*! *** ~ — ■ * ; 

Above; lio£)}is^are.*fiov aJlJ fiookseJlJr^ Copies of any or 

all of the above books will be sent to any'one, to any place, post- 
age pre-paid, on receipt of their price by the Publishers, 

T. B. PETEKSON & BROTHERS, 

306 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa. J 


\ 


CONTENT S. 



Chapter Page 

I. — sybil’s subterranean adventures 21 

II. — WHAT WAS SOUGHT, AND WHAT WAS FOUND.../ 31 

III. — THE EXPLOSION .W 43 

IV. — AFTER THE EXPLOSION 47 

V.— THE ROBBERS’ CAVE 61 

VL— THE ROBBER CHIEFTAIN 68 

VIL— GENTILISKA DUBARRY 80 

VIIL— NELLY TO. THE RESCUE 90 

IX. — THE SECOND FLIGHT 103 

X. — THE NIGHT ATTACK ON THE COACH 120 

XL — RAPHAEL 133 

XII. — A WISE AND GOOD OLD MAN '. 144 

XIII. — HOME 157 ^ 

XIV. — THE TRIAL FOR LIFE 174 

XV.— THE VERDICT 188 

XVI.— CONDEMNED 193 

XVII. — THE MERCIFUL INSANITY 203 

XVIII. — HOW SYBIL RECEIVED HER DEATH WARRANT. . 214 

XIX. — THE EXAMINATION 221 

XX. — THE LAST EXPEDIENT 228 

XXL — ISHMAEL WORTH’S NEWS 234 


( 19 ) 


CONTENTS. 20 

Chapter Page 

XXII.— HOPE 240 

XXIII.— sybil’s child 248 

XXIV.— THE GREAT VALLEY STORM 254 • 

XXV. — THE GREAT VALLEY FLOOD 262 

XXVI. — AFTER THE DISASTER 272 

XXVII. — THE VICTIMS. 283 

XXVIII. — WHAT THE LETTER CONTAINED 290 

XXIX. — AFTER THE EXPATRIATION 300 

I 

XXX. — THE GUARDIANS OF THE OLD HOUSE 313 

XXXI. — GEM 326 

XXXIL— THE LAST FATAL HALLOW EVE 337 

XXXIIL— RETURN OF THE EXILE 345 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


CHAPTER I. 

Sybil’s subtebranean adventures. 

Dark den is this, 

"Witch-haunted, devil-built, and filled 
With horrid shapes, but not of men or beastsi, 

Or aught with which the affrighted sense 
Hath ever made acquaintance. 

When Sybil recovered from lier death-like swoon, she 
felt Iierself being borne slowly on through what seemed a 
narrow, tortuous underground passage; but th^utter dark- 
ness, relieved only by a little gleaming red taper that moved 
like a star before her, prevented her from seeing more. 

A presentiment of impending destruction possessed her, 
and overwhelming horror filled her soul and held her fac- 
ulties. Though her life had depended upon her speech, 
she could not have uttered a sjdlable. And no word was 
breathed by the mysterious beings who bore her on. Dumb 
as mutes at a funeral, they marched. Silent, breathless as 
one on the brink of death, Sybil held her senses fast and 
prayed. And the little red spark moved through the dark- 
ness before her, like a malignant star leading her to doom. 
And how long drawn out the dreadful way ! minutes 
seemed months, and hours ages. The awful forms that 
held her in their hands ; their monotonous tread as they 
bore her on; their utter silence; the deep darkness; the 

( 21 ) 


22 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


damp, earthy, stifling atmosphere; the agony of suspense; 
the horror of anticipation ! — all these must have sent her 
into another swoon, but that her vigilant mind still held 
her senses alert, and she prayed. 

Who were these beings? Why had they abducted her? 
What would thej’^ do with her? She asked herself these 
questions, but shrank appalled from any possible answer. 
Death ? dishonor worse than death ? Oh that some mira- 
cle might save her in this tremendous peril ! She prayed. 
And what a tedious anguish of anxiety I When would the 
end come ? 

At length a breath of fresh air as from the upper world 
was wafted past her face. Welcome as a drop of cold water 
to a parched palate, was this breath of fresh air to her 
fevered lungs. But it passed, and all was close and suffo- 
cating again. 

Next a faint gleam of pale light glanced through the 
darkness far ahead, but it vanished, and all was blackness 
again, but for the little red spark moving before her. All 
silent, suffocating, dark. 

But presently there came another breath of air, together 
with a faint, fair, blue light as of day, in the far distance. 
And soon the breath of air became a breeze, and Sybil 
drew in refreshing draughts that, in renewing her vitality 
almost restored her courage. 

And now they moved on faster, for the path was freer. 
And now also the dawning light enabled Sybil to see her 
captors ; and if any circumstance could have increased her 
horror, the looks of these men must have done so. They 
were of almost gigantic height, and shrouded from head to 
foot in long black gowns, with hoods that were drawn over 
their heads, while their faces were entirely concealed by 
black masks. A shudder ran through her frame, as she 
looked upon them. 

But soon the changing aspect of the subterranean pas- 


sybil’s subterranean adventures. 23 

sage forced itself upon her attention. It now seemed not 
so much a narrow passage as a succession of small caverns, 
one opening into another, and every advanced one rather 
larger, lighter, and more beautiful than the preceding ; the 
walls, floor, and ceiling being of bright red sandstone, and 
lighted here and there with sparkling stalactites. At last, 
through a narrower and more tortuous winding than any 
they had yet passed, they suddenly entered a spacious 
cavern of such exceeding beauty and splendor, that for an 
instant Sybil lost sight of her terrors in her astonishment 
and admiration. 

The walls and roofs of this dazzling place were com- 
pletely covered with the purest pearl-like spar, and lighted 
with pendant crystals and stalactites, that, as they caught 
the stray sunbeams, glowed, burned, blazed, and sparkled 
like a million of pendant diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and 
sapphires. The floor was thickly carpeted with living moss 
of the most brilliant hues of vivid green, soft grey, delicate 
rose, and cerulean blue. Into this enchanting palace of 
nature, the light entered from many almost imperceptible 
crevices. 

All this Sybil saw at a glance, and then her eyes settled 
upon a figure who seemed the sole occupant of the place. 

This was a young girl, who, with her red cloak thrown 
mat-like on the moss, was seated upon it cross-legged in 
the Turkish fashion. Her elfin face, her malign eyes, her 
wild black hair and picturesque costume, were all so in 
keeping with the aspect of the place, that one might have 
deemed her the spirit of the cavern. 

Sybil had scarcely time to observe all this before her 
bearers stood her immediately in front of the seated girl, 
and saying : 

“ There she is. Princess ! So work your will upon her,’^ 
they withdrew. 

How the worst of Sybil’s terrors were over. Those 


24 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


dreadful men were gone. Before her was only a woman, a 
girl, whom she certainly had no reason to fear. 

They looked at each other in silence for perhaps half a 
minute ; and then Sybil spoke : 

“What place is this? Who are you? Why am I 
brought hither ? ” 

“ One question at a time,” answered the girl. “ ‘ What 
place this is’ concerns you little; ^who I am’ concerns you 
less ; ^ why you are brought here,’ ah ! that concerns you 
very much I It concerns your liberty, and perhaps your 
life.” 

“I do not believe it! You have had me torn away from 
my husband! Where is he now?” haughtily demanded 
Mrs. Berners. 

“ He is likely in the hands of the constables, who are by 
this time in possession of the Haunted Chapel. But fear 
nothing ! Him they will release again, for they have no 
right to detain him ; but you they would have kept if they 
had caught you. Come, lady, do not resent the rough 
manner in which you were saved.” 

“ I do not understand all this.” 

“ It is scarcely necessary that you should.” 

“And my husband ! When shall I see him ? ” 

“ When you can do so with safety to yourself, and to us.” 

“When will that be ? ” 

“ How can I tell ? ” 

“ Oh, heaven ! he will be half crazed with anxiety ! ” 

“Better that he should be half crazed with anxiety, than 
wholly crazed by despair. Lady, had we not removed you 
when we did, you would certainly be in the hands of the 
constables before this day is over, probably before this 
hour.” 

“ How do you know this ? ” 

“ From information brought in by our spies.” 

“ We came upon the Haunted Chapel by chance, in the 


8 Y B I l’s subterranean ADVENTURES. 25 

dead of night. No one could have known so soon that we 
were there.” 

No one did know it. The constables were coming 
there for us, but they would have found you, had we not 
brought you away with us. That was my doing. I made 
your removal the condition of my silence.” 

“ Girl, who are you ? I ask again ; and why do you take 
this interest in me ? ” 

Lady, I am an outlaw like yourself, hunted like your- 
self, in peril like yourself, guiltless like yourself; the 
daughter, sister, companion of thieves. Yet, never will I 
become a thief, or the wife or the mother of one ! ” 

“This is terrible!” said Sybil with a shudder. “But 
why should this be so ? ” 

“ It is m}^ fate.” 

“ And wliy do you care for me ? ” 

“ I thought I had answered that question in telling you 
all that I have told about myself, for ^ a fellow feeling 
makes us wondrous kind but if you want another reason 
I can give it to you. I care for you because I know that 
you are guiltless of the crime for which you are hunted 
through the world. And I am resolved, come what may, 
that jmu shall not suffer for it.” 

“In the name of heaven, what do you say ? ” exclaimed 
Sybil, in strong excitement. “ If you know me to be guilt- 
less, you must know w’ho is guilty ! Nay, you do know it 1 
You can not only save my life, but clear my fame.” 

“ Hush ! I know nothing, but that you are guiltless. I 
can do nothing but save your life.” 

“ You took me away in the absence of my husband. 
Why could 3 mu not have waited a little while until his 
return, and — ” 

“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed the girl, breaking in upon 
Sybil’s speech; “waited until his return, and take two 
strangers, himself and his servant, into our confidence! 


26 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Moloch would have brained me, or Belial would have pois- 
oned me if I had done such a thing. We are knaves, but 
not fools, Mrs. Berners.” 

“ But when W'ill you communicate with him, to relieve 
his dreadful suspense ? ” 

“ As soon as it shall be safe to do so. Our first care must 
be our own safety, but our second, will be yours.” 

Sybil said no more at the moment ; but sat leaking at the 
speaker, and thinking of all that had befallen her in the 
Haunted Chapel. Could this bright, warm, spirited crea- 
ture possibly be the “ damp girl ” whose two nightly visita- 
tions had appalled her so much ? She put the question : 

“ Tell me ; are you the one who came twice to my bed- 
side and lay down beside me, or is there another ? ” 

Her strange hostess laughed aloud, and clapped her 
hands. 

And there immediately appeared before them, as if it had 
dropped from the sky, or risen out of the earth, a figure 
that caused Sybil to start and utter a half-suppressed scream. 

It was that of a small, thin girl, so bloodless that her 
complexion was bluish white ; her hair and eyes were also 
very light, and her dress was a faded out blue calico, that 
clung close to her form ; her whole aspect was cold, damp, 
clammy, corpse-like, as she stood mutely with hanging hands 
before her summoner. 

“For Heaven’s sake, who is she?” inquired Sybil, under 
her breath. 

“We call her Proserpine, because she was reft from the 
upper world and brought down here. She is my maid, my 
shadow, my wraith, my anything you like, that never leaves 
me. She it was who visited you in idleness or curiosity, I 
suppose. She bore the taper before you, when you came 
through the underground passage. More than this I cannot 
tell you of her, since more I do not know myself. You may 
go now, Proserpine. And tell old Hecate to hurry up the 


sybil’s subterranean adventures. 27 

breakfast, as we have company this morning. And do you 
come and let me know when it is ready.” 

Sybil kept her eyes on the pallid girl to see where she 
would go, and she saw her slip through an almost invisible 
opening in the side of the rock. Then Sybil turned again 
to her strange entertainer, and said : 

There is something more I wish to know, if you do not 
mind telling me. Why were we drugged with opium that 
night ? ” 

“ Ha ! ha ! ha ! We had some goods to remove from the 
vault. You were all in our way. We were obliged either 
to kill you or to drug you. So we drugged you,” laughed 
the girl. 

And nearly killed us, as well.” 

Yes ; we had to make sure of your taking enough to 
put you to sleep, so I poured the laudanum into your coffee- 
pot pretty freely, I tell you.” 

At this moment the bloodless phantom appeared again, 
and in the same thin, reed-like voice that sounded so far 
away, she announced that breakfast was ready. 

“ Come, then ; I know you must need nourishment,” said 
Sybil’s wild hostess, rising to lead the way. 

And now Sybil saw how it was that the pale girl had 
slipped through the almost invisible aperture, like a spirit 
vanishing through a solid wall j for the rocky partitions of 
this natural underground palace overlapped each other, leav- 
ing a passage of about one foot in width and three feet in 
length between the walls. 

Through this they passed into a smaller cavern, which, 
like the larger one, had its roof and walls incrusted with 
pearly spars and hung with sparkling stalactites, and its 
floor covered with living moss. 

This cavern was not only beautiful, but comfortable. A 
large charcoal furnace that stood in the middle of the floor 
agreebly warmed the place, while the appetizing odor of hot 
coffee, broiled birds, and buckwheat cakes filled the air. 


28 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


But the furniture of the place was the most incongruous 
and amazing that could be imagined. A wooden table of 
the rudest workmanship stood near the furnace, but it was 
covered with a white damask table-clotli of the finest 
description, and adorned with a service of the purest silver 
plate. With this elegant and costly arraj’- was intermingled 
crockery-ware of the coarsest pattern. Around the table 
were placed two three-legged stools of the roughest manu- 
facture, and one piano chair of the most finished workman- 
ship, of carved rosewood and cut velvet. 

Waiting on this table stood the “damp girl” mentioned 
before, and also a very small, dark, withered old woman, in 
a black gown, with a red handkerchief tied over her head 
and under her chin. 

“ Come, Mrs. Berners, you are my guest, and I wijl give 
you the seat of honor,” said Sybil’s nameless hostess, as she 
led her to the little piano chair and put her on it. 

Then for herself she took one of the three-legged stools, 
saying to her handmaid : 

“ You may take the other two seats away. Moloch and 
Belial will not be at breakfast with us this morning. They 
have gone back to the vault to lay the train.” 

“ Dangerous,” muttered the old woman between her shut 
lips. 

“Never you mind, Mother Hecate ! Moloch’s courage and 
Belial’s craft will enable them to take care of them- 
selves,” said the girl, as she set a cup of hot coiFee before 
her guest, and placed a broiled partridge and a buckwheat 
cake upon her plate. 

Sybil’s long ride of the night before, followed as it had 
been by a refreshing sleep, had so restored her strength and 
appetite that, despite her late fright and her present anx- 
ieties, she made a very good breakfast. 

“ And now,” said the young hostess, as they arose from 
the table, “what will you do? Will you lie down on my 


sybil’s subterranean adventures. 29 

bed in the next cavern and sleep ; or will you sit here where 
it is warm, and talk : or will jmu let me show you through 
this net-work of caverns, that underlies all this moun- 
tain ? 

“ You are very kind, at all events, and I thank you much, 
and I think I would like to look at this great natural curi- 
osity, whose very existence so near my home I never even 
suspected,” said Sybil ; for she really wushed to explore the 
wonderful labyrinth, not only from motives of curiosity, but 
also of policy ; for she thought it would be well to know the 
ins and outs of this underground habitation, in case she 
should find it necessary to make her escape. 

So her hostess took her back into the splendid outer cav- 
ern, saying : 

You do not wish to go back through any of those cav- 
erns you passed in coming here, so we will go this way.” 

And she passed behind another of those over-lapping par- 
titions of rock, and led Sybil into another small division, 
fitted up as a rude but clean bed-chamber. In one corner 
W'as a pile of dried moss and leaves, covered with fine white 
linen sheets and soft, warm, woolen blankets. On a ledge 
of rock stood a tin wash-basin, in which stood a pure silver 
ewer. In a w’ord, the appointments of this apartment were 
as incongruous as those of the other had been found. 

This is my bed, and if you should be tired when we get 
back from our tour through the caverns, or at any time, you 
can lie down here and sleep in perfect safety,” said the 
girl. 

I thank you,” answered Sybil, as they passed out of that 
division into another. 

It was as the girl had told her, a net-work or cell-work 
of caverns, occupying, as far as it had been explored, several 
acres under the mountain. All these caverns bore a natural 
resemblance to each other. All had their roofs and walls 
incrusted with pearly spars and hung with glittering stalac- 


30 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


tites, and tlieir floors covered with living moss ; and all were 
connected by narrow passages, with the walls lapping past 
each other. 

But some of these caverns were large, and lighted by 
crevices in the roof, and others were small and dark. Some 
of the passages between them were also wide and free, and 
some narrow and impassable. And in some black inaccessi- 
ble holes was heard the fearful sound of subterranean waters. 
In one of the larger divisions of the cavern there were boxes 
and bales of merchandise, and silver plate and jewels ; in 
another there was the complicated machinery of an under- 
ground distillery ; and in still another was a collection of 
burglars’ tools, counterfeiters’ instruments, and firearms. 

“ I show you all ! I do not fear to do so ! You will 
never betray us, even if you have a chance ; but you will 
never have a chance,” said the guide. 

What ! You would not keep me here for ever ? ” 

‘^No; for shall not stay for ever. Be comforted, lady! 
No harm is intended you,” said the girl, as, having shown 
her guest all that was to be seen of the caverns, she con- 
ducted her back to the bedroom. 

“ I am very much surprised at all that I have seen,” said 
Sj^bil. “ I had no idea that there was a cave of such extent 
and beauty so near our home.” 

“ I believe,” answered the girl, “ that there are many 
caves in the mountains, as there are many isles in the ocean, 
that have never been discovered.” 

Sybil looked up in surprise. “ You call yourself the com- 
panion of thieves, yet 3mu talk like a person of intelligence 
and refinement,” she said. 

The girl laughed sardonically. Of course people ‘of 
intelligence and refinement’ are all and always honest and 
true. You should know Belial ! He taught me to read. I 
taught myself everything else. I have read Homer, Dante, 
Milton, and Shakespeare. But now you are tired j you 


WHAT SOUGHT, AND WHAT FOUND. 81 

look so. Lie down on my bed of moss and rest, and I will 
cover you up warm.” 

“ Thank you, I will do so,” answered Sybil, gladly 
stretching her wearied limbs upon the soft couch. 

Her wild hostess covered her carefully, and then left her, 
saying: 

“ Sleep in peace, lady, for here you are perfectly safe.” 


CHAPTEE II. 

WHAT WAS SOUGHT, AND WHAT WAS FOUND. 

They sought her that night, and they sought her next day. 

They sought her in vain till a week passed away, 

The highest, the lowest, the loneliest spot. 

Her husband sought wildly, but found her not. — The Mistletoe Bough. 

When Lyon Berners and his faithful servant returned to 
the Haunted Chapel, after having comfortably disposed of 
their horses for the rest of the night, the interior was still 
so dark that they did not at first discover the absence of 
Sybil, especially as the covering lay heaped upon the mat- 
tress so like a sleeping form, that even in a less murky 
darkness it might have been mistaken for her. 

As it was now very cold, Mr. Berners, who had found a 
tinder-box and a coil of wax tapers among his other effects 
in the wagon, struck a light, with the intention of kindling 
a fire. 

Joe brought some broken sticks and dry brushwood from 
the far corner where Lyon Berners had piled it up just be- 
fore the flight from the chapel, and between the master and 
man they soon kindled a cheerful blaze that lighted up 
every nook and crevice of the old interior. 

Then Mr. Berners turned toward the mattress to see how 
Lis wife might be sleeping. 


32 TRIED F/)R HER LIFE. 

" Why, she is not here ! She has waked up and walked 
out/’ he exclaimed, in some surprise and annoyance, but 
not in the least alarm,, for he naturally supposed that she 
had only left the chapel for a few minutes, and would soon 
return. 

Hi ! whar de debbil she took herself off to, all alone, 
dis onlawful time o’ de night? ” cried Joe, in dismay. 

“ Oh, not far ! She will soon be back again,” answered 
Mr. Berners cheerfully. And then he took one of the 
blankets from the mattress and folded it up for a seat, and 
sat down upon it near the fire, and stretched his benumbed 
bauds over the blaze. Joe followed his example, stretching 
out his hands also, and staring across the fire at his master 
—staring at such a rate that Mr. Berners, feeling somewhat 
inconvenienced, sharply demanded : 

“ What the deuce do you mean by that, Joe ? ” 

I want to go and sarch for my mistess. I do n’t feel 
satisfied into my own mind about her.” 

“ Why, what are you afraid of, man ? ” 

GhostessesJ^ 

Absurd ! ” 

Well, now, no it an’t, marster. I ’ve knowed Miss 
Sybil longer ’n you have. I ’ve knowed her ever since she 
was born, and I do n’t believe as she ’d go out all alone by 
herself in the dead of night to the lonesome church-yard — 
that I do n’t. And I ’s afeard as the ghostesses have 
spirited her away.” 

Preposterous, Joe! Have you lived in an intelligent 
family, and in a Christian community all your life, to be- 
lieve in ^ghostesses,’ as you call them? Are you such a 
big fool as all that, at your time of life ? ” 

Yes, marster, I ’s jest sich a big fool as all that, at my 
time of life. And I want to go out and sarch for my 
young mistess,” said Joe, in the spirit of ‘^dogged persist- 
ence,” as be began to gather himself up. 


WHAT SOUGHT, AND WHAT FOUND. 33 

‘‘Stop, stay where you are. If one of us must go, it 
must be myself,” said Mr. Berners. 

Which would be a heap the most properest proceedings, 
any ways,” muttered Joe, sulkily settling himself in his 
seat again, in a manner that seemed to say, “ And I wonder 
why you did n’t do it before.” 

“ She really ought to be back by this time, even if she 
went out but the moment before we returned ; and she may 
have gone out before that,” murmured Mr. Berners, with 
some little vague uneasiness, as he arose and buttoned his 
overcoat, and went into the church-j^ard. 

The day w^as dawning, and the old tombstones gleamed 
faintly from their bushes, in the pale gray light of early 
morning. 

“ She cannot have gone far; she would not venture ; she 
must be very near,” he said to himself, and he murmured 
softly : 

“ Sybil ! Sybil ! where are you, lo\'e ? ” 

There was no answer, and he raised his voice a little. 

“ Sybil, Sybil, my darling ! ” 

Still there was no response. His vague uneasiness be- 
came anxiety, and he called aloud : 

“ Sybil ! Sybil ! ” 

But nothing came of it, and his anxiety grew to terror, 
and he ran wdldly about shouting her name till all the 
mountain rocks and glens echoed and reechoed : 

“ Sybil ! Sybil ! ” 

And now he was joined by Joe, whose faithful and affec- 
tionate heart was wrung with anxiety and distress for his 
beloved and missing young mistress. 

“ You can ’t find her ? Oh, Marster, where is she gone ? 
What have become of her ? Oh, what shall we do ? ” he 
cried, wringing his hands in great trouble. 

“ We must search for her, Joe. This is very strange, 
and very alarming,” said Mr. Berners^ striking off intq fh® 
2 


34 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


path that led to the fountain, and shouting her name at 
every step. 

But only the mountain echoes answered. In an agony 
of anxiety they beat about the woods and thickets, and 
climbed the rocks and went down into the glens, still shout- 
ing — always shouting her name. 

Day broadened, the sun arose, and its first rays struck 
them as they stood upon the heights behind the chapel, 
looking all over the wilderness. 

“ In the name of Heaven, now what are we to do ? ” 
exclaimed Lyon Berners, speaking more to himself than to 
another. 

Joe was standing, leaning upon his stick in an attitude of 
the deepest despair. But suddenly he raised his head, and 
a gleam of light shot over his dark face, as he said : 

“ I tell you what we can do, Marster : where she ’s took 
to, we can find out at all ewents. I say where she ’s took to, 
for she never went of her own accords.” 

Heaven help my poor darling ! no ; she never did. But 
how do you think you can trace her, Joe ? ” 

This a-way 1 I Ml take the freshest of them horses, and 
ride home as fast as I can for life and death ; and I ’ll snatch 
up her little dog as has been pining away ever since she 
left, and I ’ll bring it here and make it smell to the bed- 
clothes where she lay, and then put it on the scent, to lead 
us the way she went.” 

“ Eureka, Joe ! The instinct of faithful affection, in man 
or brute, sometimes puts pure reason to the blush by its 
superior acumen,” exclaimed Mr. Berners. 

“ I do n’t know no more ’n the dead what you ’re a-talking 
about, Marster ; but that ’s the way to find out where Miss 
Sybil was took,” answered practical Joe. 

“ Come, then, we will go at once and look at the horses. 
I think, Joe, that one of your cart horses would be better to 
take, as the^ have not been so hard worked ^s ours,” said 


WHAT SOUGHT, AND WHAT FOUND. 35 


Mr. Berners, as they ran down the steep to the thicket in 
the rear of the chapel, where they had left their horses. 

In a very few minutes Joe had selected and saddled his 
horse, and stood ready to start. 

“I needn’t tell you to be prudent, Joe, and to drop no 
hint of your errand,” said Mr. Berners. 

‘'Well, no, you needn’t take that there trouble, Marse 
Lyon, ’cause ^^ou ’d be a-cautioning of Joe, as is cautious 
enough a’ready. Good-morning, Marse Lyon. I’ll be at 
Black Hall afore the fam’ly is well out of bed, and I ’ll be 
back here with the little dog afore you have time to get 
unpatient,” said Joe, climbing into his saddle and riding 
away. 

Mr. Berners returned to the chapel, where he found the 
fire smouldering out, but everything else in the same con- 
d’tion in which he had left it when he went in pursuit of 
Sybil. 

Far too restless to keep still, he walked up and down the 
length of the chapel, until he was fairly tired out. Then 
he went to the front door and sat down, keeping his eyes 
upon the entrance of the little thicket path, by which he 
knew that Joe must return. And although he knew it was 
much too early to expect his messenger back, yet he still 
impatiently watched that path. 

Presently the sound of approaching horsemen struck 
upon his listening ear. They were coming up the path 
through the thicket, and presently they emerged from it — 
not two or three, but couple after couple, until the old 
churchyard was filled with sheriff’s officers and militia-men. 
Sheriff Benthwick himself was at their head. 

In great surprise, as if they had come in quest of him, 
Mr. Berners went forward to receive the party. 

Lyon Berners was known to have been the companion of 
his fugitive wife, and therefore a sort of an outlaw ; yet the 
sheriff took off bis hat, and accosted him respectfully, 


86 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Mr. Berner^, I am greatly surprised to see you here,” 
he said. 

“Not less than myself at seeing you,” answered Lyon. 

“ We are here to seek out a set of burglars whom we 
have reason to believe have their lair in this chapel,” said 
Mr. Benthwick. 

“ Then your errand is not to me,” observed Lyon. 

“ Certainly not ! Though, should I find Mrs. Berners 
here, as well as yourself, as I think now highly probable, I 
shall have a most painful duty to perform.” 

“ Ah, sir ! within the last terrible month, I have become 
all too much accustomed to the sight of friends with ‘ pain- 
ful duties to perform,’ as they delicately put it. But you 
will be spared the pain. Mrs. Berners is not here with me.” 

“ Not here wdth you ? Then where is she ? ” 

“ Excuse me, Mr. Benthwick,” said Mr. Berners, gravely; 
“you certainly forget 3^ourself ; you cannot possibly expect 
me to tell you — even if I knew m^'self,” he added, in an 
undertone. 

“ No, I cannot, indeed,” admitted the sheriff. “ Nor did 
I come here to look for Mrs. Berners, having had neither 
information nor suspicion that she was here ; nevertheless, 
if I find her I shall be constrained to arrest her. Were it 
not for my duty, I could almost pray that I might not find 
her.” 

“ I do not think you will,” said Mr. Berners, grimly. 

And meanwhile the officers and the militia-men, at a sign 
from the sheriff, had surrounded the chapel so that it would 
be impossible for any one who might be within its walls to 
escape from it. 

“Now, Mr. Berners, as you assure me that your wife is 
not within this building, perhaps jmu may have no objec- 
tion to enter it with me,” said the sheriff. 

“ Not the least in the world,” answered Lyon Berners, 
leading the way into the chapel, as the sheriff dismounted 


WHAT SOUGHT, AND WHAT FOUND. 37 


from his horse, threw the bridle to an attendant, and fol- 
lowed. 

The interior was soon thoroughly searched, having noth- 
ing but its bare walls and vacant windows, with the excep- 
tion of Sybil’s forsaken bed near the altar, the smouldering 
fire in what had once been the middle aisle, and the little pile 
of brushwood in the corner. 

“ There is certainly no one here but yourself, Mr. Ber- 
ners; yet here are signs of human habitation,” said the 
sheriff significantly. 

Lj'on Berners laughed painfully. And then he thought 
it would be safest to inform the sheriff of some part of the 
truth, rather than to leave him to his own conjectures, which 
might cover the whole case. So he answered : 

I do not mind telling you, Mr. Benthwick, that myself 
and my injured wife took refuge in this place immediately 
after the terrible tragedy that so unjustly compromised her 
safet3\ We remained here several daj’^s, and then departed. 
These things that you notice had been brought for our accom- 
modation, and were left here when we went away.” 

So you were not at Pendleton’s ? ” 

Not for an hour.” 

That is strange. But how comes it that you are here 
now without your wife, Mr. Berners ? ” 

Sir, I have told jmu all that I mean to tell, and now my 
lips are sealed on the subject of my wife,” said Lyon Ber- 
ners, firmly. 

“ I cannot and do not blame you in the least,” said the 
sheriff, kindlj'. 

“ All that we have to do now, is to pursue our search for 
the burglars, and if in the course of it we should come upon 
Mrs. Berners, we must do our duty,” he concluded. 

To that proposition Mr. Berners assented with a silent 
bow and bitterly compressed lips. The sheriff then went to 
the door of the vault, and stooping down with his hands 


88 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


upon his knees, peered through the iron grating, more in 
curiosity than in any hope of finding a clue to the robbers. 
And in fact he discovered nothing but the head of that 
narrow staircase whose foot disappeared in the darkness 
below. 

Phew ! what a damp, deadly air comes up from that 
foul pit! it hasn’t been opened in half a century, I sup- 
pose,” exclaimed Mr. Benthwick, taking hold of the rusty 
bars and trying to shake the grating; but finding it im- 
movable, he ceased his efforts and turned away. 

Then he went to the chapel door, and called his men 
around him, sajdng : 

There is no sign of the miscreants inside the ruin ; we 
must search for them outside.” 

And he divided his party into four detachments ; and one 
he sent up the narrow path leading to the fountain, another 
he sent up on the heights, and another down in the glen ; 
while he himself led the fourth back upon the path leading 
through the thicket. And they beat the woods in all direc- 
tions without coming upon the “trail” of the burglars. But 
Sheriff Benthwick, in going through the thicket with his 
little party, met a harmless negro on a tired horse with a 
little dog before him. The sheriff knew the negro, and 
accosted him by name. 

“Joe, what are you doing here, so far from your home ? ” 

Joe was ready with his answer : 

“ If you please, marster, I am coming to fetch away some 
truck left here by a picnic party from our house.” 

“ Ah ! a picnic party ! I know all about that picnic 
party ! I have been up to the old ruin and had a talk with 
your master, and he has told me of it,” said the sheriff cun- 
ningly, hoping to betray the negro into some admissions 
that might be of service to him in tracing Sybil. 

But his cunning was no match for Joe’s. 

“ Well, marster,” he said, “ if Marse Lyon tolled you all 


WHAT SOUGHT, AND WHAT FOUND. 89 


about that, you must be satisfied into your honorable mind, 
as I am a telling of the truth, and does come after the truck 
left in the chapel, which you may see my wagon a-standin’ 
out there on the road beyant for yourself.” 

Then if you have a wagon, why do you come on horse- 
back ? ” 

“ Lftr ’s marster, I could n’t no ways get a wagon through 
this here thicket.” 

The sheriff felt that that was true, and that he had been 
making a fool of himself. He made a great many more 
inquiries, but received no satisfaction from astute Joe. He 
asked no question about the little dog, considering her of no 
importance. And at length, having no pretext to stop the 
negro, he let him pass and go on. 

Joe, glad to be relieved, touched up his horse and 
trotted briskly through the thicket, and through the grave- 
3"ard, to the ruined door of the old chapel. Here he dis- 
mounted, tied his horse to a tree, and put down the little 
Skj'e terrier, who no sooner found herself at liberty, than 
she bounded into the church and ran with joyous leaps and 
barks, and jumped upon her master, licking, or kissing, as 
she understood kissing, his hands and face all over with her 
little tongue, and assuring him how glad she .was to see 
him. 

Nelly, Nelly, good Nelly, pretty Nelly,” said Mr. Ber- 
ners, caressing her soft, curly brown hair. 

But Nell}^ grew fidgety; something was wanting — the 
best thing of all was wanting — her mistress ! So she 
jumped from her master’s lap, not forgetting to kiss him 
good-b}', by a direct lick upon his lips, and then she ran 
snuffing and whining about the floor of the chapel until she 
came to the mattress and blankets, where she began wildly 
to root and paw about, whining piteously all the while. 

“Nelly, good dog,” said Mr. Berners, taking the blanket 
and holding it to her nose. “ Sybil, S^ bil ! seek her, seek 
her!” 


40 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


The little Skye terrier looked up with a world of intelli- 
gence and devotion in her brown eyes, and re-commenced 
her rooting and pawing and snuffing around the bedding, 
and for some little time was at fault ; but at length, with a 
quick bark of delight, she struck a line of scent, and with 
her nose close to the floor, cautiouslj'’ followed it to the door 
of the vault, at wdiich she stopped and began to scratch and 
bark wdldly, hysterically — running back to her master and 
whining, and then running forward to the door, and barking 
and scratching with all her might and main. 

‘‘ There she is, Marster. Mistess is down in that vault, 
so sure ’s I ’m a livin’ nigger,” exclaimed Joe, w’ho now 
came up to the door. 

Good Heaven! she could not live there an hour; the 
very air is death 1 But if there, with a breath of life 
remaining, she must hear and answ^er us,” exclaimed Lyon 
Berners, in breathless haste, as he w^ent to the door of the 
vault ; and putting his lips close to the bars, called loudly : 

“ Sj’bil, Sybil ! my darling, are you there ? ” 

But though he bent his ear and listened in the dead 
silence and dread suspense, no breath of answ'er came. 
And little Nelly, who had ceased her noise, began to wffiine 
again. 

Lyon Berners soothed her into quietness, and began to 
call again and again ; but still no breath of response from 
the dark and silent depths below. 

“ If she is there, she is dead ! ” groaned Lyon Berners, 
in a voice of agony, as he thought of all Sybil had told 
him of the open vault and the mj^sterious figures that had 
passed to and from it in the night, and w'hich he had set 
down as so many dreams and nightmares, reverted to his 
memor 3 \ Oh, if this chapel w'ere indeed the den of thieves; 
if they had some secret means of opening that vault ; if 
they had come upon his sleeping wife while she w'as left 
alone in the chapt l, and robbed her of the money and 


WHAT SOUGHT, AND WHAT FOUND. 41 


jewels she had about her person, and then murdered her, 
and taken her body down into the vault for concealment ; 
or if, as w'as most likely, for there was no mark of violence 
or stain of blood about the place — they had taken her to 
the vault first, and robbed and murdered her there. 

Oh, if these horrible fears should be realized ! 

With the very thought Lyon Berners went pale and cold 
as marble in an anguish such as he had never felt in the 
severest crisis of their sorely troubled lives. 

Joe ! ” he cried, go search the wagon for that crow- 
bar belonging to Captain Pendleton. It must be there 
somewhere. And I must break this vault door open, or 
break my heart-strings in the trial.” 

“ The crowbar is all right, Marster. And I ^11 go and 
fetch it as fast as I can. But we ’ll nebber see Mistess 
alive again ! Nebber, Marster, in this world ! ” sobbed 
Joe, as he arose from his knees near the door and went 
upon his errand. 

Little Nelly renewed her passionate demonstrations of 
distress and anxiety; now furiousl 3 '^ barking and scratching 
at the door; now jumping upon her master’s breast, and 
looking up into his face and whining, as if telling him that 
her mistress was down there, imploring his human aid to 
free her, and wondering why it was not given. 

I know it, my poor little dog ! I know it all ! ” said 
Lj'on, soothingly. 

But little Nelly was incredulous and inconsolable, and 
continued her hysterical deportment through the half hour 
which intervened between the departure and the return of 
Joe. 

“ Ah, give me the tool ! ” eagerly exclaimed Mr. Berners, 
snatching the crowbar from the negro, as soon as he saw 
him. 

And he w'ent and applied it with all his force to the door, 
straining his strong muscles until they knotted like cords, 


42 


TEIED FOR HER LIFE. 


while Joe looked on in anxiety and suspense, and little 
Nelly stood approvingly wagging her tail, as if to say : 

‘‘Now, at last, you are doing the right thing.” 

But with all Lyon’s straining and wrenching, he failed 
to move the impassable door one hair’s breadth. 

J oe also took a turn at the crowbar j but with no more 
success. 

They rested a while, and then united their efforts, and 
with all their strength essayed to force the door j but with- 
out the slightest effect upon its immovable bars. 

“ I might have known we could not do it this way, for 
neither Pendleton nor myself could succeed in doing so. 
Joe, we must take down the altar and take up the flagstones ; 
but that will be a work of time and difficulty, and you will 
have to go back home and bring the proper tools.” 

“ But the day is most gone, Marster, and it will take me 
most all night to go to Black Hall and get the tools and 
come back here. And is my poor mistress to staj^ down 
there into that dismal place all that time ? ” sobbed the 
negro. 

“ Joe ! if she is there, as the little dog insists that she is, 
you know that she must be dead. And it is her body that 
we are seeking,” groaned Lyon Berners, in despair. 

“ I knows it, Marster — I knows it too well j but I can’t 
feel as it is true, all de same. And oh ! even to leave her 
dear body there so long!” said Joe, bursting into a storm 
of tears and sobs. 

“ That cannot be helped, my poor fellow. Besides, I shall 
sit at this door and watch till your return, and we can work 
down into the vault. She shall not be quite alone, Joe.” 

So persuaded, Joe, unmindful of fatigue, once more set 
out for Black Hall. But on this occasion he took another 
horse, which was fresher. The sun had now set, and the 
short winter twilight was darkening into night. 


THE EXPLOSION. 


43 


CHAPTER III. 

THE EXPLOSION. 

There came a burst of thunder sound ! — H eihans. 

Lyon Berners, chilled to the heart with the coldness of 
the night, half famished for want of food, and wearied with 
his late violent exertions, and wishing to recruit his strength 
for the next day’s hard work, kindled a fire, and made some 
coffee, and forced himself to eat and drink a little, before he 
drew his mattress to the door of the vault, and stretched 
himself down as near as he could possibly get to the place 
where he believed the dead body of his beloved wife lay. 

Poor little Nelly, abandoning her efforts either from ex- 
haustion or in despair, crept up and tried to squeeze herself 
between her master and the door of the vault that she too 
thought held her mistress. Lyon made room for her to curl 
herself up by his side, and he caressed her soft fur, while he 
waked and watched. 

It was now utterly dark in the chapel but for the dull red 
glow of the fire, which was dying out. An hour passed by, 
and the last spark expired, and the chapel was left in total 
darkness. 

The agonies of that night who shall tell ? They were 
extreme — they seemed interminable. 

At length the slow morning dawned. Lyon arose with 
the sun, and walked about the chapel in the restlessness of 
mental anguish. The little dog followed at his heels, 
whining. Presently Lyon took up the crowbar and tried 
again to force the iron door. He might as well have tried 
to move a mountain. He threw away the crowbar in des- 
peration, and then he stooped and peered through the iron 
bars : all dark ! all still in those dismal depths ! He turned 
away and rekindled the fire, and prepared a little breakfast 


44 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


for himself and his dumb companion. He must cherish his 
strengtli for the work that was before him. 

After having eaten a morsel, and given his dog food, he 
signalled to her to lie down at the door of the vault and 
wtftch, while he went out towards the thicket to look for 
Joe, who might now soon be expected. 

He went through the church-yard, and on to the entrance 
of the thicket path ; he even pursued that path until it led 
him out upon the river road. He looked down the road for 
miles, but saw no sign of Joe ! 

Then, not wishing longer to leave the spot where the 
body of his murdered wife was supposed to lie unburied, he 
went back through thicket and gravej’ard to the chapel, 
where at the door of the vault the faithful little Skye terrier 
still watched. 

He entered and threw himself down beside her, there to 
wait for the return of his messenger. 

But ah ! this was destined to be a day of weary, weary 
waiting ! The morning advanced towards noon, and still 
Joe did not appear. Lyon arose and walked restlessly 
about the chapel, stopping sometimes to peer down into the 
vault, where nothing could be seen, or to call down where 
nothing could be heard, or he took up the crowbar again, 
and renewed his frantic efforts to force the iron door that 
nothing could move. 

Noon passed ; afternoon advanced. 

Something has happened to Joe,” said the desperate 
man to himself, as once more he started out in the forlorn 
hope of meeting his messenger. 

Again the weary way was traversed; again he went 
through the church-yard and thicket, and came out upon 
the long river road, and strained his gaze far along its 
length, but without seeing signs of the negro’s approach. 

“ Yes ; some accident has befallen Joe. All goes wrong, 
all is fatal, all is doomed ! ” He groaned in despair as he 


THE EXPLOSION. 


45 


turned and retraced his steps towards the old “ Haunted 
Chapel.” As he drew near the building, he was startled by 
the furious barking of his little dog. 

“ Poor little Nell}’" has worked herself up into hysterics 
again at the door of that vault,” he said to himself, as he 
quickened his pace and entered the building. 

He found it in the possession of the constables, with the 
sheriff at their head. Mr. Benthwick, with an expression 
on his face oddly made up of triumph and compassion, 
advanced to meet him, saying : 

‘‘We are not at fault now, Mr. Berners. We returned 
to-day to resume our search through these mountains, and 
late this afternoon, as we were returning from our unsuccess- 
ful pursuit of the burglars, we were met here in the church- 
yard b}’’ these men.” 

And here the sheriff pointed to Purley and Munson, who 
were standing at a short distance. 

“ They told us,” proceeded Mr. Benthwick,” that Mrs. 
Berners, with your assistance, had escaped from their 
custod3^” 

“ Eight over my dead body, which I should say, my 
sleeping body,” put in Purley. 

“And that she was certainly concealed in this chapel, as 
they had received unquestionable information to that effect,” 
added Mr. Benthwick. 

“ Well, sir, if you find her here, you will succeed in the 
search far better than I have done,” replied Lyon Berners, 

“ We have found you here, and under very suspicious 
circumstances; so we will take leave to make a more 
thorough searcli than we did j^esterday,” replied the sheriff. 

“ Have you tried the vault ? ” inquired Purley. 

“ No ; but we will try it now. She may be concealed 
within it, after all,” said Mr. Benthwick. And seeing the 
crowbar, he took it up and went to work upon that immova- 


46 


TEIED FOR HER LIFE. 


ble door; but finding it so fast, be threw down the tool, 
saying : 

It is of no use to work at that door in that way, and it 
is of no use either to look through the bars, for you can see 
nothing but black darkness. But, Purley, I will tell you 
what to do. Do 3’'OU go and cut the most resinous knot that 
you can find on the nearest pine tree, and bring it to me.” 

Purley started off in a hurry, and soon returned with a 
pine knot fairly soaked with turpentine. 

^‘Now, then,” said Mr. Benthwick, as he took the torch 
from the hand of his messenger. “ I think this will throw 
some light into the darkness below ! ” 

And he applied it first to the fire in the aisle, and then he 
carried it, fiaming high, to the door of the vault, and put- 
ting it through the iron bars, let it drop into the vault. 

It was lighted up in an instant, and the sheriff and Pur- 
ley bent down to look through the grating to see what the 
interior illumination might show them. 

And Lyon Berners, whose anxiety was of course more 
intense than that of any one present, elbowed his way 
through the crowd to get nearer the door of the vault. 

But before he could effect his purpose, a sound of thun- 
der burst upon the air ; the solid floor upheaved ; the walls 
of the old Haunted Chapel fell in a heap of smoking ruins ; 
and all the valley and the mountain tops were lighted up 
with the flames of destruction. 


AFTER THE EXPLOSION. 


47 


CHAPTEE lY. 

AFTER THE EXPLOSION. 

Horror wide extends 
Her desolate domain ! — Thompson. 

The thunder of the explosion, when the old Haunted 
Chapel was blown up, was heard for many miles around. 

It burst upon the unsheltered wayfarers like the crack of 
doom ! 

It stunned the plantation negroes gathered around their 
cabin fires ! 

It startled the planters’ families at their elegant tea- 
tables ! 

Travellers paused panic-stricken on the road ! 

Home-dwellers, high and low, rushed with one accord to 
doors and windows to see what the dreadful matter might 
be ! 

Was it an earthquake ? 

Had some unsuspected volcano suddenly burst forth in 
the mountain ? Indeed it seemed so ! 

Volumes of black smoke ascended from a certain point 
of rocks, filling all the evening air with the suffocating smell 
of sulphur. 

There was a pause of astonishment among the people for 
about one minute only; and then commenced a general 
stampede of all the able-bodied men and boys from a circle 
of several miles in circumference to the centre of attraction ; 
while the women and girls waited at home in dread sus- 
pense ! 

But the very first on the scene of the catastrophe was a 
lamed negro. 

Poor Joe ! Just as his master had surmised, he had met 
■Vvith an accident. He had, indeed, reached Black Hall in 


48 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


safety, near the dawn of that day ; but being quite ex- 
hausted with twenty-four hours of watching, working, and 
fasting, he succumbed to drowsiness, fatigue, and famine. 
In short, he ate and drank and slept. 

He did not mean, poor faithful creature, to do more than 
just recruit sufficient strength to take him back, with the 
tools, to his master. 

But when one, under such circumstances, surrenders to 
sleep, he loses all control over himself for an indefinite 
period of time. Joe slept fast and long, and never waked 
until he was rudely kicked up by a fellow-servant, who 
demanded to know how he came to be sleeping on the hay 
in the barn, and if he meant to sleep forever. 

Joe started up, at first confused and delirious, but after- 
wards, when he came to his senses and found that it was 
past noon, he was utterly wretched and inconsolable. He 
did not even resent the rudeness of his comrade, in kicking 
him up ; but, on the contrary, meekly thanked him for his 
kindness in arousing him. 

And then he went and gathered his tools together, and 
saddled his horse, and without waiting for bite or sup, he told 
his mate that he had work to do at a distance, and mounted 
and rode off towards the ferry, which he had to cross to 
reach the river road on the other side, because, with the 
weight of iron tools he carried, he could not possibly get 
over the ford. 

All this contributed so to delay Joe’s journey, that the 
sun set while he was still upon the river road, and “the 
shades of night were falling fast” when he reached the 
entrance of the thicket path leading to the Haunted 
Chapel. 

He had not ridden more than a hundred yards up this 
path, before the thunder of the explosion burst upon his 
appalled ears. And at the same instant his affrighted 
horse, with a violent bound, threw him to the earth, jumped 
forward and fled away. 


AFTER THE EXPLOSION. 


49 


Amazed, stunned, bewildered as he was, Joe did not 
entirely lose his senses. When recovered a little from the 
shock, he felt himself all over to see what bones w’ere 
broken ; and found to his great relief that all were sound. 

Then he got upon his feet, and looked about him ; but a 
dense, heavy, black vapor w’as settling down upon the 
thicket, hiding all things from his view, while the stifling 
fumes of brimstone took his breath away. 

“I’m !” — Joe in his consternacion swore a very 

profane oath, which it is not necessary here to repeat — “ ef 
I do n’t b’leibe as de Debbil has blowed de old' Haunted 
Chapel ! And oh ! my Hebbenly Marster ! ef so, what > 
have become o’ Miss Sybil and Marse Lyon, and Nelly ? ” 
he cried in a sudden pang of terror and sorrow, as he tried 
to hurry towards the scene of the tragedy. He set off in a 
run, but was brought up short by a sharp severe pain in his 
right ancle. 

“ It’s sprained ! Bress de Lord, ef it an’t sprained ! ” 
he cried, drawing up and caressing his injured limb. 

“ It an’t no use ! I can ’t put it to the ground no more ! ” 
he groaned. 

Then standing upon his left foot and holding the other 
in his hand, he looked around and saw the pick lying 
among the scattered tools, that had fallen from his hold 
when the horse threw him. He cautiously bent down and 
took up the pick, and reversed it, and using it as a crutch, 
he hobbled on through the thicket towards the ruins of the 
old chapel. But his progress was so slow and painful that 
it took him nearly an hour to reach the place. 

When at length he emerged from the thicket and entered 
the old churchyard, a scene of devastation met his view 
that appalled his soul. 

“ Oh, my Lord ! ” he said, stopping and leaning upon his 
pick-crutch, as he gazed around, “ what an awful sight ! 
Joe, you are like — somebody among the ruins of some- 
3 


50 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


thing/’ he added, as a vague classic similitude about Scipio 
and Carthage flitted through his half-dazed brain. 

It was indeed a scene of horror deep enough to dismay 
the stoutest heart ! Nor was that horror less overwhelming 
for the obscurity that enveloped it. The Haunted Chapel 
was gone ; and in its place was a heap of blackened, burn- 
ing, and smoking ruins, with here and there the arm or leg 
of some crushed and mutilated victim protruding from the 
mass. And iu strange contrast to this appalling scene, was 
a poor little Skye terrier, preserved from destruction, 
Heaven only knows how, that ran snufSug and whining 
piteously around and around the wreck. 

“ Come, Nelly ! pretty Nelly ! good Nelly ! ” called Joe. 

The Skye terrier left off circling around the smouldering 
ruins, and bounded towards her dusky friend, and leaped 
upon him with a yelp of welcome and a whine of sorrow. ‘ 

“ Oh, Nelly ! Nelly ! what has happened ? ” cried Joe. 

The little dog howled dismally in answer. 

Yes, I know what you would say. I understand. The 
devil has blown up the Haunted Chapel,” said Joe. 

She lifted up her nose and her voice in a woe-begone 
howl of assent. 

“Just so; but oh! Nelly! Nelly Brown! where is the 
master and the mistress ? ” 

She answered by a cry of agony, and ran back to the 
ruins, and re-commenced her pawing and whining. 

“ Ah, yes ! just so ; buried under all that there,” groaned 
Joe. 

But Nelly ran back to him, barking emphatically, and 
then forward to the ruins, and then, seeing that he still 
stood there, back to him again, with the most eloquent 
barks, that seemed to assure him that her master and mis- 
tress were under the mass, and at length to ask him what 
was the use of his being a man, if he could not dig them 
out. 


AFTER THE EXPLOSION. 51 

Never did man and dog understand each other better. 
Joe replied to Nelly as if she had spoken in the best ap- 
proved English. 

“ I know it, honey ! I know they are ; they are there ! ” 
he sobbed, “but you see I’m crippled, and can’t do nothing.” 

But the little Skj^e terrier could not comprehend such in- 
competency in a human creature, and so she very irration- 
ally and irritatingly continued her appeals and her re- 
proaches, until Joe hobbled up to the heap of smoking ruins 
to take a hearer view. 

The first thing that met his sight was the sole of a man’s 
boot, belonging to a leg protruding from the mass. 

“ If it should be hizzen ! Oh, good gracious ! if it should 
be marster’s ! But no,” he continued, on a closer examina- 
tion of the limb. “ No ! there is a spur on the heel. It 
is n’t hizzen. No ! thank goodness, it is Master Sheriff 
Benth wick’s, and sarve him right too.” 

AVhile Joe was exulting, either wickedly over the destruc- 
tion of the sheriff, or piously over the possible preservation 
of his master, there was a sound of crackling footsteps 
through the thicket, and the forerunners of the approaching 
crowd appeared upon the scene. 

Among them was Captain Pendleton, who, recognizing 
the figure of Joe even in the obscure light, strode towards 
him, eagerlj" demanding : 

“What is all this? How did it happen? Do you 
know ? ” 

“ Oh, marse Capping Pendulum, sir, I ’s so glad you ’se 
come ! ” cried Joe, on the verge of tears. 

“But how did this happen?” impatiently repeated the 
captain. 

“ Ob, sir, do n’t jmu see as the debbil has blowed up the 
Haunted Chapel and my young mistess and marster into it 
all this time,” sobbed the man. 

“ Good Heaven I You do n’t mean that, Joe ! ” exclaimed 
Captain Pendleton. . 


62 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Yes, I do, sir ; worse luck I which you can see for your- 
self, as even poor little ignorant Nelly knows it,” wept Joe. 

And the little Skye terrier, as if to confirm the negro’s 
words, ran and leaped upon the captain, whining patheti- 
cally, and then ran backward and forward between him and 
the heap of ruins, as if to impress upon his mind that her 
dear master and mistress were really buried there, and to 
implore him to come to their assistance. 

But other people were now pouring rapidly in upon the 
scene of the catastrophe. 

Exclamations of horror and dismay were uttered; then 
pine knots were sought and lighted, and everybody crowded 
around the ruins. 

“ There are human being buried beneath this pile ; for 
Heaven’s sake, friends, lose no time ; but disperse and find 
tools to dig this away ! ” exclaimed Captain Pendleton, 
energetically. 

Several of the bj^'-standers started at once for the nearest 
farm-houses to procure the needful tools. 

Captain Pendleton turned to Joe. 

Tell me now,” he said ; “ how came Mr. and Mrs. 
Berners in this place?” 

Joe related all that he knew of their escape from the 
sheriff’s officers, their accidental meeting with him, their 
arrival at the Haunted Chapel, the mysterious disappear- 
ance of Sybil, the visit of the constables and militia-men in 
search of the burglars ; the means that his master and him- 
self took to discover traces of Sybil through the instinct of 
her little dog ; the reasons they had, through the behavior 
of the little Skye terrier, to believe that the lady had been 
taken down into the vault and robbed and murdered ; his 
own departure in search of tools to take up the flagstones 
over the vault, and finally his return to the scene of action 
to find the Haunted Chapel one mass of ruins. 

“ When I left marster he was sitting at the door of the 


AFTER THE EXPLOSION. 


63 


vault, where we thought the dead body of my poor mur- 
dered young mistess was hid ; and when I corned back I 
found this here ! sobbed Joe, pointing to the wreck. 

Good heaven ! my man, this is a frightful story that you 
tell me ! Sit jmurself down on the ground, and give me 
that pick which you are using for a crutch ! I must go to 
work here,” exclaimed Captain Pendleton, taking the pick 
from the negro and beginning to dig vigorously at the mass 
of fallen stone and mortar. 

The men and boys who had gone after implements now 
came hurrying back, with picks, spades, hoes, rakes, etc., 
over their shoulders. 

They immediately fell to work with a zeal and energy 
inspired by curiosity and terror; and while the hoys held 
the lighted pine knots high above their heads, the men dug 
away at the mass with all their might and main. 

It was a wild scene, that deep glen ; the heap of smok- 
ing ruins in the midst, the affrighted crowd of workers 
around it, the flaming torches held on high, the spectral 
gravestones gleaming here and there ; the whole encircled 
by dark, towering mountains, and canopied by a murky, 
midnight sk}^ ! 

In almost dead silence the fearful work went on. 

The first body exhumed was that of the unfortunate 
Sheriff Benthwick, quite dead. It was borne tenderly off 
to some distance, and laid down on a bed of dried leaves 
beneath the shelter of an oak-tree. 

Then four other bodies were dug out from the mass, 
among them that of the bailiff Purley. And these were 
carried and laid beside that of the sheriff. 

And now, though the workmen dug away at the ruins as 
vigorously as ever, they found nothing but broken timbers, 
stone, and mortar. Ho sign of Lyon or Sybil Berners was 
to be seen. A wild hope sprang up in the heart of Joe — a 
hope that in some miraculous manner his young master and 


64 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE: 


mistress had escaped this terrible destruction — a hope that 
the little Skye terrier would bj’’ no means encourage, for she 
continued to run around the ruins, and in and out among 
the legs of the workmen, to the serious danger of her own 
life and limbs, and to bark and whine and paw, and assert 
in every emphatic manner a little brute could use, that her 
master and mistress were really under there and nowhere 
else. 

“You’ll drive me to despair, you little devil of a dog! 
You ’d make ’em there, whether they ’re there or not, and I 
tell jmu they an’t there ! ” cried Joe- in desperation. 

But Nelly held to her own opinion, and clamorously 
maintained it. 

She was soon justified. The workmen, in course of their 
digging, removed quite a hill of plaster, stone, and broken 
timbers, and came upon a leaning fragment of the back wall, 
inclined at an angle of about fortj'^-five degrees, and sup- 
ported in its place by a portion of the altar and the iron 
door of the vault, which had stood the shock of the ex- 
plosion. 

Under this leaning wall, and completely protected by it, 
lay two men, scorched, bruised, stunned, insensible, but still 
living. 

They were Lyon Berners and Bobert Munson. Amid 
the surprise and satisfaction of the crowd, they were care- 
fully lifted out and laid upon the ground, while every simple 
means at hand were used for their restoration, while the 
little Skye terrier ran round and round with yelps of joj' and 
triumph, which seemed to saj' : 

“ I told you so ! and next time you ’ll believe me ! ” 

“Friends,” said Captain Pendleton, addressing some of 
the men who were still working away at the ruins, “ there 
is no use in your digging longer! You may see from the 
very position of that wall and the aspect of everything else 
he.rt*, that there can be no more bodies among the ruins. 


AFTER THE EXPLOSION. 


55 


You can do nothing to bring the dead to life ; but you can 
do much to save the living from death. Hurry some of you 
to the nearest house and bring a couple of shutters, and 
narrow mattresses also, if possible ! These men must be 
taken to my house, which is nearest, to receive medical 
attention.” 

As the captain spoke, a dozen workmen threw down their 
tools and started on the errand. 

Old Joe hobbled up to the spot, where Captain Pendleton 
sat supporting the head of Mr. Berners on his knee, while 
little Nelly jumped around, now in a hysterical state be- 
tween joy and fear ; for she saw at last, that though her 
master was rescued, he was not yet safe. On seeing Joe 
come up, she jumped upon him with an eager bark which 
seemed to say : 

You see I was right ! Here he is, sure enough ! ” 

Yes, Nelly, that’s all very well as far as it goes. But 
where’s the young mistess, Nelly j where’s Miss Sybil?” 
sorrowfully inquired Joe. 

The little dog looked up in his face with a bark of intelli- 
gence and distress, and then broke away and ran in among 
the ruins. 

There still is she!” exclaimed Joe, and he hobbled 
after the little Skye terrier to the place where the leaning 
fragment of the wall was supported by the iron door of the 
vault. 

“ They must dig into that vault. I’ll never be contented 
until they dig into that vault ; and I’ll speak to Capping 
Pendulum about it,” said Joe, and he hobbled back to the 
spot where that gentleman still sat supporting the head of 
his wounded friend. 

^^Sir, Marse Capping,” said Joe, respectfully taking off 
his hat, you heerd wliat I tell you ’bout marster and me 
having of good reasons to s’pose as my young mistress was 
robbed and murdered and hid into that vault? ” 


66 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Yes,” gravely assented the captain. 

“ Well, sir, Marse Capping, Nelly do stick to it as she is 
down there. And, sir, I shall neber feel satisfied into my 
own mind, till the men dig away all the rubbish and lay 
open ‘ the secrets of that there prisin house.’ ” 

Joe, it shall be done, if only for the satisfaction of your 
faithful heart,” said the captain. 

“ And for Nelly’s too, sir. See how she stands and looks 
up into your face, waiting for you to ’cide, just as if she un- 
derstood all that I was a axing of you, which of course she 
do.” 

Not a doubt of it,” assented the captain. 

At that moment the messengers who had been dispatched 
for shutters and mattresses, returned with the articles, and 
set them down before Captain Pendleton. 

“ Now, my men,” said the captain, arrange one of the 
mattresses upon the shutter, and assist me to lay my wounded 
friend upon it.” 

Keady hands obeyed this direction, and the faintly breath- 
ing body of Lyon Berners was laid down in comparative 
ease. 

The same service was performed for poor young Munson, 
who was badly injured, and also quite unconscious. 

Now, my men, this poor negro has reason to believe that 
the body of his mistress may be found in the bottom of that 
vault ; I want you therefore to go to work as fast as you can, 
and remove all. the rubbish that has fallen into it, even down 
to the floor,” was the next order given by the captain. 

And the men seized their picks and resumed their dig- 
ging with renewed energy. 

Joe, stay here by your master and this poor fellow ; and 
occasionally wet their lips with this brandy and water, while 
I go and see to the clearing out of the vault,” said Captain 
Pendleton j and leaving Joe in charge of the wounded men, 
he followed the workmen to the ruins to urge them to the 
greatest expedition, adding as a reason for haste : 


AFTER THE EXPLOSION. 


57 


It is time that Mr. Berners and Munson should be 
taken to my house, and placed in bed, to receive proper 
medical attention. But I cannot consent to leave this spot 
even to attend to them, until I find out whether the body 
of Mrs. Berners is really under the ruins. 

Thus exhorted, the men worked with tremendous energy, 
and soon dug away all the pile of rubbish, and laid the 
depths of the vault open to the torch light. But there w^as 
nothing to be seen but the damp and slimy walls and floor, 
and the little heaps pf broken stones and fallen plaster in 
the corners. 

^^Kot there ! Well, then, I did n’t know whether I was 
a-hoping or a fearing to find her there, or whether I ’m 
glad or sorry now at not finding her there,” said Joe, who 
in his excessive anxiety had at length deserted his post be- 
side the wounded men, and hobbled up to the opened vault. 

“ You should be glad, for now you have no evidence of 
her death ; but, on the other hand, good reason to hope that 
she is somewhere alive and well,” said Captain Pendleton. 

“ That ’s so too, Marster Capping. But only see what a 
little story-teller Nelly is ! ” 

“ It was her master she scented, and she found him.” 

“ Yes, but she tried to make me believe as her mistess 
was down there also. And look how she sticks to the 
story ! There she is down there still running round and 
round like she was crazy, and a snuffing at all the cor- 
ners ! ” 

“ Never mind Nelly, Joe. Come along now. We must 
take your master and the other poor fellow on to my house. 
It should have been done before this. I am sorry for 
this delay, which has been so fruitless,” said Captain Pen- 
dleton, as he led the way back to the spot where he had left 
the injured victims of the explosion. 

“Marster Capping,” said Joe, as he hobbled after Pen- 
dleton, “I have got two horses tied up there into the 


58 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


woods, ef they have n’t been frighted at the blowing up, and 
done broke loose; and I have got a wagon down by the 
roadside, if so be as you would like to convey my wounded 
marster and the t’other geraplan that a way.” 

“ No, Joe ; the jolting of a wagon might be fatal to 
them in their present condition. Thej’^ must be carried 
carefully on shutters. But the wagon will be just the thing 
to convey the dead bodies to Blackville, where an inquest 
must he held upon them,” answered the captain. 

And he requested some of the men present to go in 
search of the horses, and to harness them to the wagon for 
the required services to the dead, while others he detained 
to help in care of the wounded. 

When the shutters upon which Lyon Berners and Bob- 
ert Munson lay were each carefully lifted by the hands of 
four men, and the little procession was about to start. Cap- 
tain Pendleton called to Joe, saying : 

“ You must go with me to have your limb looked to, and 
also to be with your master, who will need familiar faces 
near him when he comes to himself.” 

Yes, sir ; Marse Capping Pendulum, I will go. But 
oh, my Hebbenly Lord, what will I have to tell my poor 
marster, when he opens his eyes and looks at me ? ” cried 
Joe, bursting into tears. 

“ Come, come, be a man ! Stop howling, and do j'our 
duty — which is now to follow your master,” expostulated 
the captain. 

Yes, sir, I ’ll do it ; but I must get Nelly fust. I 
could n’t leave her, poor little dog, here to pine away and 
die in the vault,” sighed Joe, who then lifting his voice, 
cried, Nelly ! Nelly ! ” 

But no dog answered. So Joe hobbled his way back to 
the opening of the vault, and looking down into it, ex- 
claimed : 

Bless my two eyes I ef there she an’t a-whinin and a- 


AFTER THE EXPLOSION. 


59 


pawin’ and a-sarcbin’ as persemoniously as ever ! — Nelly ! 
Nelly ! ” 

At the sound of his voice the little terrier ran up from 
the vault, and leaped upon him. 

Joe stooped and picked her up in his arms, and hugged 
her affectionately to his bosom, as he said : 

“ You see it ’s no use stayin’ here, my poor little dog. 
Our mistess an’t nowheres about here.” 

Nelly was however of a different opinion, and she whined 
and struggled to be released ; and when Joe held her faster, 
she growled and threatened him with her teeth. 

“ Can ’t help it, my little darling. Our mistess an’t no- 
where round, and it an’t no use your staying here to grieve 
yourself to death among the ruins. You v’e got to go 
along with me — Owtch ! you little devil, you ! ” exclaimed 
Joe, suddenly breaking off in his discourse, and dropping 
the dog; who, having found that all her efforts to release 
herself had been in vain, had made her little teeth meet in 
the fleshy part of the negro’s hand. 

“ Was there ever sich a vic’ous little beast? ” cried Joe, 
as he hobbled away, sucking the blood from his wounded 
member. Now she may stay there for me. I do n’t care 
ef she do pine herself to death, agrawatin’ little brute ! ” 

And so, grumbling and growling, he hobbled after the 
little procession that was now well on its way through the 
thicket. 

Meanwhile little Nelly ran back into the vault, and re- 
commenced her irrational investigations. 

The hours of the night wore on. The men who had 
been sent in search of the horses, with great difficulty found 
and caught them, and brought them back to the scene of 
the explosion. The dead bodies were bound upon their 
backs, and they were led through the thicket to the road, 
^ here the empty wagon was waiting. As there were five 
bodies and but two horses, and as only one body could be 




60 TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 

bound upon one horse at a time, it was necessary to make 
three trips through the thicket, before they could all be got 
upon the wagon. So it was a work of time and trouble to 
remove all the dead from the scene of the catastrophe. At 
length, however, the last body was bound upon the last 
horse and led away by the last man that left the spot. 

And of all the living crowd that had filled the church- 
yard and surrounded the ruin, none was left but the little 
Sk3^e terrier Nelly, who was still at work in the vault. 

What was she doing ? 

She had concentrated her attention and her energies 
upon one spot — a moderate sized heap of denselj^ packed 
rubbish in one corner. She was scratching away at this 
heap ; she had already burrowed a hole of some depth ; 
and still she scratched away, with all her might and main, 
until her strength failed ; and then she sat down on her 
hind quarters and panted until she recovered her breath ; 
and then she re-commenced and scratched away for dear life 
until something fell on the other side, and with a bark and 
bound of joy, she leaped through the aperture and ran 
snuffing along the damp ground. 

Eureka ! ! the little Skye terrier had discovered what 
human intelligence had failed to do ! She had found the 
secret subterranean passage, and now be sure she will find 
her mistress. 


THE ROBBER s’ CAVE. 


61 


CHAPTER V. 

THE robbers’ cave. 

There ’s ae thin?r yet ; there 's twa things yet, 

To brag on that ye know ; 

They never, never failed a friend. 

And never feared a foe. — Nicoll. 

We left Sybil sleeping on her sylvan couch, in the cav- 
ern chamber of her nameless hostess. She slept on as they 
sleep who, being completely conquered by mental and 
bodily fatigue, surrender unconditionally to Nature’s great 
restorer. 

Late in the afternoon she awoke, much refreshed in mind 
and body, though at first somewhat confused as to her 
“ local habitation.’’ But the voice of her strange hostess 
at once restored her memory and self-possession. 

You have slept long and well,” said the girl. “ I have 
been in here half a dozen times at least to look at you, and 
always found you fast asleep. You never even changed 
your position. I think you must feel much better.” 

I feel very well, thank you, if only I could hear from 
my husband,” replied Sybil. 

“ Always the same subject ! that is stupid and tiresome. 
But I can tell you about jmur husband. He is just now at 
the Haunted Chapel, waiting for the constables to go away, 
so that he may resume his search for you.” 

Poor Lyon ! But how do you know this ? ” 

“ Moloch, who has just come in, told me.” 

“ ‘ Moloch ! ’ You have mentioned that name several 
times. Who is Moloch ? ” 

“ The lieutenant of the band. Belial is the adjutant. 
Satan is the captain, but we seldom see him. He is a very 
fine gentleman, of the very first society. I have no doubt 
that you have met him often in the drawing-rooms of 
wealth and fashion. 


62 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 




" Gk)od Heaven ! girl, what story is this that you are 
telling me ? 

“ The very truth. &atan is a gentleman. Belial also is 
no stranger to good company. Hem ! they were both at 
your masquerade.” 

“Both at — !” gasped Sybil, losing her breath in aston- 
ishment. 

“ Your masquerade ! Yes, for I tell you that they are 
both men.of fashion and pleasure. As for poor old Moloch, 
he is just what he seems — a rude, rugged robber! And 
then there is Vulcan.” 

“ But who are these men ? ” inquired Sybil, recovering 
h^r lost breath. 

“ I told you. Gentlemen in the drawing-room ! Bob- 
bers on the highway.” 

“ But why do you give them such diabolical names ? ” 

“ Because they are devils, each in his way ! Moloch is a 
brutal and ferocious devil ; Belial is a smooth, deceitful 
devil ; and Satan is an intellectual and commanding devil.” 

“What are their right names ? ” 

“ It would be hard to tell ! Each one having a score of 
aliases at his disposal.” 

“ I hope I shall not be obliged to see any of these 
wretches ! ” imprudently exclaimed Sybil. 

“ They are devils, not wretches, if I know them and 
know the meaning of words I But reflect, madam, that to 
these wretches, as you call them, you owe your libertj’’ and 
perhaps your life,” said the elfin-like hostess, resentfully. 

“ My liberty I And here I am a captive among you.” 

“ Only for a time j only until we can place 3*ou in perfect 
safet}^ on a foreign shore. And that we are sworn to do. 
And is not this comparatively honorable captivity ; better 
than the degrading one of the county jail ? ” 

Sybil paled and shuddered through all her frame as she 
answered ; 


THE ROBBER s’ CAVE. 63 

“ I should be grateful for all this — hut — but — my hus- 
band ! ” 

“ Oh, bother, there it is again ! Always the same mew / 
If there ’s anything in the world makes me feel ill, it is a 
love-sick woman ! ” exclaimed the strange girl. But her 
short-lived auger quickly disappeared, and holding out her 
tiny brown hand to her guest, she said: 

“ Come, get up and wash ! There is some fresh water 
and clean towels. And there is a change of clothing, if you 
wish to have it. And here am I, to serve as your lady’s 
maid. And when you are dressed, there will be a dinner 
read}’^ for you, of which I may say that the Govenor of the 
State will not sit down to a better one to-day.” 

Sybil gave her hand in token of reconciliation, and then 
arose from her couch of leaves. Very glad was she of the 
opportunity of washing and changing her dress ; for of all 
the petty privations that were mixed up with her great 
troubles, she felt most the want of fresh water and clean 
clothes. 

The girl waited on her kindly and skilfully. And Sybil 
would have been well pleased had she not, in taking up one 
of the fresh damask towels, saw on it the initials of her 
friend Beatrix Pendleton. She held it up to the view of 
her hostess, and looked inquiringly. 

“Yes, to be sure! we wanted face towels, and they 
brought away a dozen or so of them from a house they 
recently visited. But you cannot help it. I advise you to 
make the best of everything,” said the girl, answering the 
look. 

Sybil said not si word in reply ; but she thought within 
herself, “ I am forced to consort with thieves, and to use 
their stolen goods ; but I will profit by nothing which I 
shall not make good to the owner; and so as soon as I shall 
be freedy I will privately send Miss Pendleton a fourfold 
compensation.” 




64 TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 

And thus, having satisfied her conscience, Sybil took her 
hostess’ advice, and made the best of everything.” 

When she was thoroughly renovated by a complete 
change of clothing, every article of which she recognized as 
the property of Miss Pendleton, her strange hostess con- 
ducted her into the spacious and beautiful cavern that has 
been already'’ described. 

There was a large round table set in the middle of the 
floor, covered with a fine white damask cloth, and furnished 
with a heterogeneous service of the richest silver plate, the 
most delicate Sevres china and the coarsest earthen ware 
and rudest cutlery. There were plates laid for about a 
dozen persons. Around the table were seats as miscellane- 
ous in quality as was the service ; there were three-legged 
stools, stumpy logs of wood set on end, one very large stone, 
and one elegant piano chair. 

“ We always eat our great meal of the day in this place. 
You would call it dinner ; we call it supper, but it is all the 
same,” said the girl. 

“ Oh ! ” exclaimed Sybil, looking in dismay at the many 
plates — “ Oh ! have I got to meet all these horrid men ? ” 
Yes, my lady ! You must meet these horrid men who 
have saved you ! They do not often have the honor of a 
ladj’^’s company to supper, and they will not dispense with 
yours now,” replied the elfin hostess, sarcastically. 

A shudder ran through Sybil’s frame ; but she rallied all 
her strength to resist the creeping terror. 

“ These thieves are men, after all,” she said to herself. 
^^They are not beasts nor devils, as their companion calls 
them ; they are human beings, why should I fear them ? ” 
And she spoke very cheerfully to her hostess, inquiring ; 

“ When do you expect your companions in ? ” 

“ They drop in at any time in the evening. Some of 
them will be here soon, and then we will have supper.” 

The darkening of the cave now indicated that the sun 


THE ROBBER s’ CAVE. 


65 


was setting. And soon the wild hostess clapped her hands 
and called in her pale attendant to light up the cavern. 
And the phantom vanished for a few moments, and then 
returned with two tall silver candlesticks, supporting two 
such large wax candles that Sj^bil saw at a glance that they 
must have been stolen from the altar of a Catholic chapel. 
And she shivered again at perceiving that she was the 
guest of the worst of outlaws — sacrilegious church -robbers ! 
Blit soon her attention was attracted by the splendor of the 
scene around, when the stalactite walls of the cavern, 
lighted up by the great candles, emitted millions of pris- 
matic rays of every brilliant hue, as if they were encrusted 
with diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, amethysts, to- 
pazes, and carbuncles, all of the purest fire. 

“ Splendid, is it not? What palace chamber can com- 
pare to ours ? ” inquired the girl, on observing the evident 
admiration with which her guest gazed upon the scene. 

Before Sj^bil had time to reply there was the heavy 
trampling of feet near at hand, and the next moment four 
rough looking men entered the cave. 

Involuntarily Sj’bil shrank closer to her hostess, as they 
passed near her. But not one of them either did or said 
anything, to alarm or offend her. Each one, in his turn, 
gruffly greeted her by nodding, as he pulled off his hat and 
threw it into a corner, and then seated himself at the 
table. 

The elfin girl clapped her hands, and when her attendant 
appeared, she ordered that supper should be immediately 
brought in. 

Meantime Sybil furtively observed the four robbers, but 
one of them especiall}^ fascinated her gaze, with something 
of the terrible fascination that the boa-constrictor is said to 
exercise upon the beautiful birds of the Brazilian forest. 

He was a great red-haired and red-bearded giant, whose 
large limbs and coarse features had well earned for him the 

4 


66 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


nick-name of “Moloch;” and Moloch, Sybil instinctively 
knew this man to be. The other three were ordinary, hir- 
sute, dirty ruffians, upon whom she scarcely bestowed a 
glance. Her eyes continually reverted to Moloch, from 
whom she could not long keep them. He was huge, ugly, 
brutal, ferocious ; but he commanded attention, if only from 
the power that was within him. 

But what terrified Sybil the most was this — that her own 
fascinated eyes at length attracted his, and he looked at her 
with a devouring gaze that made her eyelids fall and her 
very heart sink within her. 

The two women — the dark and shrivelled old Hecate, 
and the pale, cold Proserpine — now brought in the supper. 
And as the elfin hostess had declared, a more luxurious 
meal did not grace the table of the State’s Governor that 
day. There were green-turtle soup, rock fish, ham, wild 
turkey, and partridges, with every variety of vegetables and 
of condiments. And there were pies, puddings, custards, 
and pastries of every description. And jellies, jams, and 
fresh and preserved fruits, of every sort. And there were 
priceless wines, and fragant coffee and tea. All these luxu- 
ries were placed at once upon the supper table, or a side 
table in full view of the company. 

“ We have no printed bill of fare,” laughed Sybil’s 
strange hostess ; “ but the fare itself is before you ! ” 

“ Let the lady be seated in the place of honor,” growled 
Moloch, glowering at Sybil with his dreadful eyes. 

“ Which means the piano stool, I suppose,” said the 
strange hostess, taking Sybil by the hand, and leading her 
to the seat in question. 

She suffered herself to be put into it ; but the next in- 
stant she was horrified by the insolence of Moloch, who de- 
liberately arose from his seat and came around and placed 
himself beside her, and laid his great hand upon her shoul- 
der. 


THE ROBBER s’ CAVE. 


67 


You are handsome,” he said “ Do you know it ? 
But of course you do. The swells have told you so a many 
times.” 

“ Do n’t touch me ! ” said Sj’bil, shrinking from him. 

“ Now do n’t put on airs. You ’re one of us, j’ou know, 
and so we ’ll ’fend 3’ou to the last drop of blood in our 
weins. Only do n’t put on airs ; but be kind to them as are 
kind to you,” growled the brute. 

“ But take jmur hand away — please do. I cannot bear 
it!” cried Sj-bil, shrinking farther off still. 

“ \Yl\y, now, if you only knowed what this here hand 
have done in your sarvice, you ’d fondle on to it, instead o’ 
flinging it off like it was a wasp,” coaxed the ruffian, steal- 
ing his arm around her neck. 

But Sybil, with a sudden and violent gesture, cast it off, 
and started to her feet, seizing the knife beside her as a 
weapon of defence. 

“Lord bless your pretty little soul, what’s the good of 
that ? Wh}*, when I was a lad, I always liked to tease the 

kittens best that spit and scratched and fit the most ! 
That onlj" makes me like you better. Come now, sit down 
alongside 0’ me, and let’s be good friends,” said the ruf- 
fian, throwing his arms around Sybil, and forcing her into 
her seat. 

“Stop that, you devilish beast! Let the lady alone ! ” 
cried Sybil’s nameless hostess, in a voice of authority. 

“ Do n’t be jealous, my darling,” replied Moloch, tighten- 
ing his clasp around Sybil’s waist. 

“Men! why don’t you. interfere? He is rude to the 
lady ! ” cried the girl, appealing to the others. 

“ We never meddle between other men and their sweet- 
hearts. Do we, mates ? ” called out one. 

“ No, no, no ! ” answered the others. 

“ Oh, if Satan were here ! ” cried the girl in despair. 

“ Satan is here ! ” responded a voice close by. 


68 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


And the robber captain stood among them as if he had 
risen from the eartli ! 

Moloch dropped Sybil, and cowered in the most abject 
manner. 

Sybil looked up, and turned cold from head to foot ; for 
in the handsome, stately, graceful form of the brigand 
chief, she recognized the finished gentleman who, in the 
character of “ Death,*’ had danced with her at her own 
Mask ball, and — the probable murderer of Eosa Blondelle ! 

( 

I 


CHAPTER VI. 

THE ROBBER CHIEFTAIN. 

He was the mildest mannered man 
That ever scuttled ship, or cut a throat; 

With ST ch true breeding of a gentleman. 

You never cjuld divine his real thought; 

P ty he loved adventurous life’s variety. 

He" was so great a loss to good society, — B ybon. 

While the walls of the cavern seemed wheeling around 
Sj’bil, the robber captain calmly came up to her, lifted his 
hat, and said : 

“ Spirit of Eire, I am happy to welcome you to your own 
appropriate dwelling place. Behold ! ” 

And he waived his hat around towards the stalactite 
walls and ceiling of the cavern, now burning, sparkling, 
blazing, in the reflected light of the candles. 

“ Death ! ” uttered Sybil, under her suspended breath. 

“Yes, Death! I told you. Spirit, that Death and Eire 
were often allies ! But now, as we are no longer masquera- 
ding, permit me, Mrs. Berners, to present myself to you as 
Captain Inconnu,” he said, with another and a deeper bow. 

“That name tells me nothing,” replied Sybil. 

^‘What name does rnore ? ” inquired the stranger} and 


THE ROBBER CHIEFTAIN. 


69 


then, without expecting an answer, he turned to Moloch, 
and said in his smoothest tones : 

Be so good as to give me this seat, sir.” ( 

But Sybil saw that the giant turned pale and trembled 
like the fabled mountain in labor, as he left the seat by her 
side, and slunk into another at some distance; and she felt 
far more fear of the graceful “ Captain Incorinu,” who now 
placed himself beside her, and behaved with so much defer- 
ence, than she had felt of the brutal Moloch,” who had 
treated her with the rudest familiarity. And this fear was 
not at all modified by a whisper that reached her acute 
ears, from the man at whose side the giant had now seated 
himself. 

I could a’ told you what you ’d get, if you meddled wi* 
the Captain’s gal ! Now look out.” 

But the “ Captain ” conducted himself with the greatest 
courtesy towards his guest. 

‘‘Come here, Princess!” he said, addressing the girl, 
“ come here and place yourself on the other side of this 
lady. If you are Princess, she is Queen.” 

The girl immediately came around and seated herself. 
And the master of the house helped his guest to the mo^t 
delicate morsels of the viands before him. 

Sybil, though in deadly fear of her gentlemanly atten- 
dant, accepted every one of his attentions with a smile. 
She knew poor child, to whom she was now obliged to pay 
court. Her one idea was her husband ; her one want, to be 
* * reunited to him, at all risks or costs to liberty or life ; and 
she knew that this man, the autocrat, as well as the Cap- 
tain of his band, had the power to restore her to her hus- 
band, and so she exerted all her powers of pleasing to win 
his favor. 

Poor Sybil ! if she was rather ignorant of books, (for a 
gentleman’s daughter,) she was still more ignorant of man- 
kind. She might have learned something from the case of 


70 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Eosa Blondelle, but she did not. And now no guardian 
spirit wliispered to her : 

“You saw liow tlie blandishments of a beauty affected 
even your own true-hearted husband ; and yet, with the 
best intentions, you are using the same sort of blandish- 
ments upon a brigand. What can j’ou expect but evil ? 

No; the voice of her guardian angel was silent; and the 
beautiful, honorable lady continued to smile on the robber 
captain, until his head was turned. 

Near the conclusion of the feast, he filled a goblet to the 
brim with wine, and rising in his place, said : 

“Fill high your glasses, men! Let us drink to the 
- health of our new sovereign. Dethroned and outcast by 
the law, we will enthrone her and crown her the Queen of 
Outlaws ! Fill to the brim with this best of wine. And 
mind, this cup is a pledge of amnesty to all offenders, of 
union among ourselves, and of devotion to our Queen ! ” 

The toast was honored by full glasses and loud cheers. 
And none filled higher or cheered louder than the giant 
Moloch, who now felt himself secure from the captain’s 
vengeance, by virtue of the general proclamation of 
amnesty. 

The long-protracted feast came to an end at last. 

The robber captain was not an impetuous brute like the 
giant Moloch. He was a refined and cultivated being, who 
could bide his time, and enjoy his happiness by anticipation. 

So at the end of the supper, seeing that his guest was 
very weary, he signed to the girl to rise. And then he 
took the lady’s hand, pressed it most respectfully to his lips, 
and placed it in that of the girl, saying: 

“ See your queen to her apartments, and serve her 
royally.” 

Poor Sybil ! In her infatuation she smiled upon the 
brigand, with a look that deprived him of the last Remnant 
of reason, and then she followed her conductor from the 


room. 


THE ROBBER CHIEFTAIN. 71 

The girl led the lady to the same cavern chamber where 
she had before slept, and then said : 

“Listen to me. Satan is not himself to-night. Satan 
is in love. That is a more fatal intoxication than any pro- 
duced by wine ; and when the devil is drunk with love or 
wine, he is very dangerous. You must stay with me to- 
night.” 

“ Your eyes are wide open, and as bright as stars ! You 
are not sleepy at all,” said the girl gazing upon Sybil’s 
excited face. 

“ How can I be, when I slept so long to-day, and when I 
liave so much to occupy my thoughts besides?” sighed 
Sybil. 

“ Do you wish to sleep ? ” 

“Indeed I do ; to sleep and forget.” 

“ Here then,” said the girl taking a full bag from a cor- 
ner and drawing over it a clean pillow-case. “Here is a 
sack of dried hop-leaves. It is as soft as down, and sopori- 
fic as opium. Put tliis under your head and 3^11 will find 
it to be a magic cushion that will convey you at once to 
the land of Hod.” 

Sj’bil took her advice and soon grew calm, and soon after 
lost all consciousness of her troubles in a deep repose, 
which lasted until morning. 

The glinting of the sun’s rays through the crevices in the 
cave, and the sparkling of the stalactites on the walls, first 
awakened Sybil. She saw that her hostess was already up 
and dressed ; but had not left the cave. She was in truth 
setting the place in order after her own toilet, and laying 
out fresh towels for that of her guest. 

Sybil watched her in silence some time, and then spoke : 

“ I have been with 3mu twenty-fours hours, and 3mt do 
not know your nanie. Will jmu never tell it to me?” 

“Yes, my name is Gentiliska; but you may call me 
Iska.” 


72 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


“ Iska ? Gentiliska ? Where have I heard that singu- 
lar name before ? ” inquired Sybil of herself ; for in fact so 
many startling incidents had happened to her lately, that 
her mind was rather confused. She reflected a moment 
before she could recall the idea of the Gipsy girl, in the 
legend of the “ Haunted Chapel.’^ She turned and gazed 
at her hostess with renewed interest. A superstitious thrill 
ran through her frame. Yes ; here were all the points of 
resemblance between this strange being and the spectral 
girl of the story ! Here were the Gipsy features, the long 
black elf-locks, the jet black eyes, and arch eye-brows 
depressed towards the nose and lifted towards the temple, 
the elfish expression, the manner, the dress, the very name 
itself ! 

Why do you look at me so strangely?” inquired the 

girl. 

Gentiliska ! ” repeated Sybil, as in a dream. 

Yes, that ’s it ! Most of the girls of my race have borne 
it ; but my great-grandmother was the last before me.” 

Your great-grandmother ? ” echoed Sybil still as in a 
dream. 

“ Yes ; she had no daughter or granddaughter, else they 
also would have been Gentiliskas. She liad only a son and 
a grandson, and her grandson had only me,” calmly replied 
the girl. 

Sybil gasped for breath ; and when she recovered her 
voice she exclaimed : 

“ But you have another name — a family name ! ” 

“ Oh, to be sure ; most people have.” 

“Would you — would you tell it me?” inquired Sybil, 
hesitatingly. 

The girl looked at her quizzingly. 

“Believe me, I do not ask from idle curiosity,” added 
Sybil. 

“Oh, no j to be sure not. We are not a bit curious—* 
we ! ” 


THE ROBBER CHIEFTAIN. 


73 


“ You need n’t tell me,” said Sybil. 

Oh, but I will. My family name ? It is not a very- 
noble one. It is indeed a very humble one — Dewberry.” 

“ Dubarry ! ” exclaimed Sybil, catching her breath. 

“ Oh bother, no. I wish it was. That was the name of 
the great family who once owned all this great manor, which 
went to wreck and ruin for want of an heir ! — oh, no; my 
name is Dewberry — the little fruit vine, you know, that runs 
along the ground, and takes its name from its cool berries 
being always found deep in the dew. Besides, I am 
English, and descended through my great-grandmother 
Gentiliska from the English gipsies. She was a gipsy 
queen.” 

“ Gentiliska,” said Sybil, “ Tell me something about your 
great-grandmother. I feel interested in all that concerns 
gipsies.” 

“ Well, but get up and dress for breakfast. I can talk 
while you are making your toilet.” 

Certainly,” said Sybil, immediately following the advice 
of her hostess, who with nimble hands began to help her 
to dress. 

“ My ancestress Gentiliska was the daughter of a long 
line of gipsy kings. On the death of her father, she 
became queen of the tribe.” 

“ Her father had no sons ? ” 

Oh, yes, he had. But his daughter was made queen. 
I do n’t know wh}^ She was very beautiful, and she sang 
and danced as charmingly as that beautiful Jewish princess, 
who danced off the head of holy ‘John the Baptist.’ She 
was an astute reader of human nature, and therefore a 
successful fortune teller. She always promised love to 
youth, money to the mature, and long life to the aged. 
One day at the races she told the fortune of a rich young 
man, in return for which he made hers.” 

“How?” 


74 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


He married her/^ 

He did really marry her ? You are sure ? 

The girl flared up. He took her abroad with him ; and 
of course he married her.’’ 

“ Of course he should have done so,” sighed Sybil, as the 
fairy castle she had built for the girl fell like a house of 
cards. 

‘‘ I tell you he not only should have done so, but he did 
so. My ancestress was no fool. She was married by 
special license. I have the license in a silver casket. It 
was the only heir loom she left her descendants, and they 
have kept it in the family ever since. They had a notion, I 
think, that there was wealth or honor hung on to it,” 
laughed the girl. 

“ Honor certainly, wealth possibly.” 

“ Ha ! ha ! ha ! I don’t see how. Little good for one or 
the other, it ever did us. My father was a tramp; my 
grandfather a tinker.” 

But how was that? Your ancestress married a gentle- 
man ? ” 

“ Yes, she married a gentleman, and her tribe discarded 
her when she deserted them. They would have discarded 
her all the same, if she had married a king who was not of 
her race. She went abroad with her husband, and visited, 
I have heard, the four quarters of the globe. She returned 
after two years, bringing with her a dark infant boy. She 
was about to go with her husband on another long, long 
voyage. He refused to allow her to take her child, but 
said, for the little lad’s own sake, he must be left at nurse 
in England. The only point she could get him to yield 
was this, that the child should be left with her tribe until 
it should be five j^ears old, when they would reclaim it.” 

“ That w'as a very strange disposition for a gentleman to 
make of his son.” 

“ It would have been, if he had cared a snap for his son, 


THE BOBBER CHIEFTAIN. 


75 


which he didn’t, as after events proved. The gipsy wife 
sought out her own old grandmother, who was a famous 
doctress of the tribe. In the beldame’s care she left the 
babe. Then with her husband she slipped away to sea, and 
neither the one nor the other was ever seen or heard of 
afterwards. The boy, deserted by liis father and his 
mother, grew up a poor degraded little half-breed among 
the gipsies, scarcely tolerated by them, but loved and pet- 
ted by his foster-mother, whose great power in her tribe 
only sufficed for his protection. When at length the old 
crone lay upon her death-bed, she called the youth to her 
side, and placed in his hand the silver casket, saying: 

“ Take it, ray lad. It was put in my hands by your 
mother, when she left you with me. Take it, then ; guard 
it as the most sacred treasure of your life; for it may bring 
you to wealth and honor yet.’ 

‘‘ And then she died, and the lad, with the casket for his 
only fortune, left the tribe, and took to the road alone, 
mending pots and kettles for a living, often suffering 
hunger and cold, but never, under any stress of poverty, 
parting with the silver casket.” The girl paused for a 
moment and. then resumed : 

“ But poverty never yet prevented a gipsy from taking a 
mate. He found one in the daughter of another travelling 
tinker, poorer, if possible, than himself. She lived only 
long enough to bring him one child, and then died, it is 
said, from the hardships of her life.” 

That was miserable,” sighed Sj’bil. 

“ It was so miserable that her widowed husband never 
tried marriage any more ; but he brought up his son to his 
own trade — that of a travelling tinker. And when the 
time came for him to give up the ghost, he placed the cas- 
ket in the liand of the boy, saying : 

“ Your mother died of want, rather tlwin let it be sold 
for a sum that might have saved her life and made her 


76 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


comfortable ; because she said that in it was her child^s 
destiny. Keep it and guard it as you would guard your 
heart’s blood. 

“ And so the old tinker died, and the young tramp, with 
the heirloom in his possession, set out to seek his fortunes. 

“ But he did not go upon the quest alone. Like most 
improvident young tramps, he took a mate. His wife was 
my mother. I remember both my parents while they were 
yet young and handsome, and very happy despite their 
poverty. My father — But let me stop ! Before I go any 
further, I wish to ask you a question.” 

“ Ask it.” 

Ho you believe that any one may become so maddened 
with causeless jealousy as to commit a crime?” 

“ I not only believe it, but know it.” 

Then I will go on. My father doted on my mother — 
just doted on her! But my poor mother had a friend and 
benefactor, of whom my father grew insanehq furiously, but 
causelessly jealous. 

“ One day he did a cruel murder, and found out when it 
was too late that he had slain the father of his wife, who, in 
coming after her at all was only looking to the interests of 
his poor, unowned daughter. Ah ! a volume might be 
W'ritten on that tragedy ; but let it pass 1 My mother died 
of grief. But long ere that my father had fled the country 
an outlaw and the companion of outlaws. 

“ Once his still absorbing love for his wife drew him back 
to England, at the imminent risk of his life. His wife was 
dead, and his daughter was a little wretched child, knocked 
about among beggars and tramps, and in extreme danger 
of that last evil — that last, and worst evil that could have 
befallen her — being taken care of by the parish 1 ” 

‘‘ That is a severe sarcasm,” said Sybil, rebukingly. 

“ Is it ? If ever you are free again, lady, visit the most 
destitute homes in the world, and then the best alms-houses 


THE ROBBER CHIEFTAIN. 77 

in your reach, and find out for yourself whether it is not 
better to die a free beggar than to live an imprisoned pau- 
per. The manner in which Workhouse Charity ‘ whips the 
devil round the stump ’ by satisfying its conscience without 
benefiting its object, is one of the funniest jokes, as well as 
one of the most curious subjects of study, that can be found 
in social life.” 

“ I am sorry to hear you say so ; but go on with your 
story.” 

My father, bowed down with remorse for his crime, and 
grief for the loss of his wdfe, found yet something to live for 
in me, his only child. He brought me away to the coast of 
Trance, where he and his pals were carrying on a very suc- 
cessful business in the smuggling line. 

“They run goods to and fro between the Trench and 
English shores of the Channel. One day he was fatally 
wounded in an encounter with the Excise ofiicers, near St. 
Margaret’s. He was taken prisoner, but all the other mem- 
bers of his baud escaped. When he knew he was dying, he 
sent for me, and the officers were kind enough to have me 
looked up. 

“I was then wandering about the village in a state of 
destitution, in which I must have perished but for the kind- 
ness of the poorest among the poor, who shared their crusts 
and their pallets with me. 

“ I was taken to my father, who was dying in the Dover 
jail. He gave me the silver casket, telling me what a sa- 
cred heir-loom it was, and how he had kept it through every 
temptation to part with it, and that I must guard it as the 
most precious jewel of my life ; for that one day it might be 
the means of making me a lady.” 

“I didn’t say ^ Bosh’ to my dying father; but I have 
said ‘ Bosh ’ ever since, every time I have thought of that 
bauble ! It never did any good to my father, or my grand- 
father, and it is not likely to relent in my favor. Beyond 


78 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


the fact that it proves my great-grand motlier, the Gipsy 
Queen, to have been an honest woman, I do n’t see any use 
it is to her descendants.” 

“ I liave it still, as I told you before ; because from the 
hour of my poor father’s death, I have never known a want, 
or felt a temptation to part with it. I was adopted by his 
band, who have always treated me like a princess.” 

“ But I have a sort of spite against it, for all that, for it 
never yet did what was expected of it ; and so, the first time 
I find myself hungry without the means of procuring food, I 
will sell the silver casket to the first purchaser I can find; 
and the first time I want to light a candle and can ’t find 
any other piece of paper, I will burn the marriage license.” 

‘‘Don’t j'ou do it !” exclaimed Sybil, eagerly, earnestly; 
“burn, sell anything you possess sooner! I believe that 
that casket has been preserved through three generations for 
5 mur sake, yours! And if, as jmur poor father hinted, it 
does not make you a lady, — for nothing but nature and 
education can make one a lady, jmu know — it will be sure 
to make jmu a woman of wealth and position ! ” 

“ Bosh ! I will say ‘ bosh ’ to you ; for you are not my • 
father,” sneered the girl. 

“ Suppose I were able to furnish you with the key to the 
lock of this sealed family history of yours? Suppose I 
could point out to you the place where Philip Dewberry, as 
you called him, carried his gipsy wife Gentiliska ; where 
she died without other children ; and where he also subse- 
quentlj^ died without other heirs? ” inquired Sybil. 

“ If you could do that*, you could do wonders 1 ” laughed 
fhe girl incredulously. 

“ I believe I can do all this ! I believe I can give you 
the sequel and complement of the family history jmu have 
told me ! ” said Sybil seriously. 

“ How is it possible ? You can know nothing of it. I 
am English, you are American. The ocean divides our 


THE UOBBER CHIEFTAIN. 


79 


countries, and the century dhndes that past history from the 
present.’^ 

“ Divides and unites ! ” said Sybil. 

But how is that ? ” 

“ Gentiliska, did jmu never think of connecting the two 
circumstances; your race of Dewberrj^s searching for the 
estate to which the}" had a claim, but no clue ; and this 
manor of the Dubarrys, waiting in abeyance for the heir 
who never comes to claim it ? 

“iVb / ” exclaimed the girl in some excitement, never 
did! But the coincidence is striking too. Only — one name 
is Dubarry and the other is Dewberry. Bosh, I say again ! 
One name is even Drench, and the other is English ! They 
are not even of the same nation ; how can they have any 
connection with each other? ” 

“ My dear ; do nT you know how easy it is to corrupt a 
name ? Do n’t you see how inevitably the aristocratic 
Drench name Dubarry would be corrupted by ignorant 
people into the humble English name Dewberry ? ” 

“ Yes ; but I never thought of that before.” 

^‘Now", will you let me look at that license ? ” 

“I don’t care. Only whenever I put my hands upon it, 
I am tempted to tear it up.” 

“ Do nothing of the sort ; guard it as you would guard 
your precious eyes. And now let me see it.” 


80 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


CHAPTER YIL 

GENTILISKA DUBARRY. 

“And Iska, 

And Iska, 

And Iska’s a lady.” 

The girl went to a little trunk, unlocked it, and brought 
out the small silver casket. She touched a spring and the 
top flew open revealing a packet of papers, from which she 
selected one brown with age, and worn almost into squares 
by folding. She laid it before Sybil, who carefully unfolded 
it, and scrutinized it. 

“ There, you see ! ” said the lady at length, speaking in 
triumph. “ There is the name of Philip Dubarry, as plain 
as a proctor’s clerk could write it. Not Dewberry, mind 
you, but Dubarry. See for yourself.” 

“ So it is ! ” exclaimed the girl in amazement. ^‘Now do 
you know I never examined it so closely as to see the differ- 
ence in the spelling of the name before ? We were always 
called Dewberry ; and Dewberry I thought we were.” 

“ No ; you were and are Dubarrjq and in all human prob- 
ability the sole heiress of this great manor.” 

Stop a bit ; oh, my eye ! I mean, oh, my nose ! ” 

What ’s the matter ? ” 

“ I smell a mice ! ” 

“ What do you mean ? ” 

“ Satan knows I am a princess in disguise, and that ’s the 
very reason why he wants to marry me.” 

“ Please be clear, if you can ’t be brilliant.” 

Why, I ’m as clear as mud. Satan has found out that 
I am the rightful heiress of the Dubarry manor, and he 
wishes to make me his wife in order to become master of the 
estate,” the girl explained. 


GENTILISKA DUBARRY. 


81 


S-ybil raised her eyes in surprise, then dropped them again 
upon tlie license, and repeated : 

“ So Satan wishes to wed you.” 

“ You bet. And I never could imagine wh}^ a gentleman 
of his cultivated tastes should want me for a wife.” 

Did he ever happen to see that marriage license ? ” 

“ Oil, yes, he has seen it and studied it. He told me it 
was an important document, and advised me to take good 
care of it.” 

Then that is probably the way in which he discovered 
your riglit to the Dubariy estate.” 

To be sure it was ; for from the time he first saw that 
paper, he began to treat me wdth more respect and attention. 
And I do believe that was also the reason why he came down 
to this place.” 

While the girl spoke, Sybil was thinking hard and fast. 
Was the gentleman brigand the husband-of Rosa Blondelle ? 
Had he deliherately murdered his wife that he might marry 
this young gipsy heiress of tlie great Dubarry manor ? 
But the girl would not let the lady reflect in peace for many 
minutes. She suddenly broke out with — 

“ I can T credit it. Not even in the face of the facts. 
What, a poor little beggarly wretch of a half-breed gipsy like 
me, the sole heiress of an old aristocratic manor ? Stuff and 
nonsense ! Even if I liave a right to it, I shall never get 
it.” 

‘‘ Oh, yes, you will,” said Sybil, confidentl3\ I never 
heard of a clearer case than yours, as 5’ou have stated it. 
You have only to prove three marriages, three births, and 
one identity. And as marriages and births are always re- 
gistered in your country, there will be no difficulty in that.” 

marriages and births were alwa^’s registered for the 
same reason that this license was kept, that some of us 
might come into the family fortune sometime, and be made 
5 


82 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


a lady or a gentleman of. And it begins to look like I was 
going to be the lady.” 

Well, but do n’t spoil your fortune by marrying Satan,” 
said Sybil. 

“ Marry Satan ? I’d see him in Pandemonium first ! ” 
exclaimed the little student of Milton. 

I ’m glad to hear you say so ! Keep to that, and get 
out of this den of thieves as soon as ever you can,” added 
Sybil. 

“ Now, may Satan fly away with me if ever I desert my 
friends. They risked their necks to rescue me from want in 
Dover, and have provided for me like a princess. If tliaVs 
the way you good people requite kindness, I think I ’ll stick 
to my poor scamps. At least, I will never leave them, until 
I can give them each and all money enough to retire upon 
honestly.” 

“ But you will have to leave them, before you can do 
that. Yon will have to live among law-abiding people, 
before you can get a lawyer to take up such a case as yours. 
I think, if ever I am free again, I would like to have you 
home with me; and I am sure my dear husband w'ould 
take up your cause, as he has taken up that of man}’^ a poor 
client, without money, and without price.” 

Here the girl burst into such peals of laughter, that 
Sybil could but gaze on her in astonishment. 

“ Oh, jmu know, that is too good ! ” exclaimed Iska, as 
soon as she recovered from her mirthful paroxj^sra. 

“What is too good? ” inquired Sybil, slightly displeased. 

“ Oh, that you should invite me to your house, and 
recommend me to your husband’s good offices ! One would 
think that you had had enough of taking up stray women 
and flinging them at your husband’s head ! ” exclaimed the 
girl, with another paroxysm of laughter. 

Sybil turned pale, and remained silent for a few 
moments ; then she said very gravely : 


GENTILISKA DUBARRY. 


83 


“Your gay rebuke may be a just one. I will think 
twice before I repeat the folly.” 

“ And now I have lost a friend by my jest. I am always 
losing friends by jests,” said Gentiliska, sadly. 

“No, indeed you have not, poor child,” exclaimed our 
magnanimous Sybil. “ I might think once, or twice, but I 
should never think long without offering you a home in my 
heart and in my house. You are no saint, poor girl ; but 
that jmu are an honest woman, with your antecedents and 
your surroundings, is as much to your credit, I think, as 
sanctit}’’ is to the most holy.” 

And the lady arose and kissed the little gipsy. 

“That was good,” sighed Gentiliska; “ that is the first 
time I have ever been kissed since my poor mother died.” 

Thej^ were interrupted by the apparition of Proserpine, 
who glided into the inner cavern. 

“ What do you want ? ” demanded Gentiliska. 

“Nothing. Breakfast has been ready this half-hour. 
We thought you were asleep, so we waited. But just now 
I heard 3mu laughing. So I came in to tell you everything 
W’ould be spoiled, if j’ou did n’t made haste and get ready.” 

“All right; we are read}’’. Put breakfast on the table 
directly,” said Gentiliska. 

The girl disappeared, and the two temporary companions, 
Sybil and Gentiliska, soon followed. 

They found a comfortable breakfast laid out in the 
kitchen, and, as on the preceding morning, Sybil did justice 
to the delicacies set before her. 

“ W’^here are j’our companions ? ” she inquired of Gentil- 
iska, not seeing any sign of the robbers’ presence. 

“ I do n’t know. Where are the men, Hecate ? ” in- 
quired the hostess, turning to the crone. 

“ Bless jmu. Missis, as soon as they got through with- 
their supper, which they kept up until midnight, they one 
and all put on their gowns and masks, and started out on 
business.” 


84 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


“ Business ! Yes, that means stopping a stage-coach, or 
breaking into a house ! sneered the girl. “And they 
have not got back yet ? ” she inquired. 

“ Bless 3’ou, Missis, no ! I sorter, kinder, think as 
thej^ ’ve gone a good distance this time. 

S^^bil said nothing ; but she felt relieved, and grateful to 
be rid of those terrible men, even for a few hours. 

When breakfast was over, Gentiliska said to Sj’bil : 

“ You must not suppose that I live entirely' under 
ground, like a mole I No, indeed; every day when it is 
fine, I go to the surface. I get out on the roof. I walk on 
the mountain heights, ^ where never foot fell,’ except my 
own ! I went out yesterday, and would have taken you ; 
but that you were so dead asleep. Will you climb with me 
to-day ? ” 

“ With great pleasure,” said Sybil. 

“And while we go, we will take little baskets and some 
luncheon, and we will gather some nuts — there are so many 
on tlie mountain — walnuts, chestnuts, hickory-nuts, hazle- 
nuts, and chinkapins,” added the young hostess, as they 
walked back to the sleeping cavern, where they began to 
prepare for their ramble. 

“ There, take that, and wrap yourself up warm. I wish 
it was nicer, but I have n’t a choice of garments here, you 
know.” 

Sybil picked up the articles thrown her by her hostess, 
and saw, to her astonishment, that it was a priceless India 
shawl, belonging to her friend Miss Pendleton. 

“This! this!” she exclaimed, indignantly; “do you 
know what this is ? ” 

“ It is an old shawl,” replied the girl, contemptuously. 

“Yes, it is an ‘old shawl,’ a rare old camel’s hair shawl, 
worth thousands upon thousands of dollars, an heir loom of 
the Pendleton family, that has descended from generation 
to generation, until now it is the property of Miss Beatrix 
Peudleton. Oh, I am so sorry she has lost it.” 

] 


g'entiliska dubarry. 85 

‘^What, that old thing? I’m blessed if I didn’t think 
it was a most uncommon coarse, thick, heavy old brocli^.” 

“ It is a priceless India camel’s hair shawl ! Such a one 
as could not be bought in this ceutury at any price. Oh, I 
wish slie had it back I” 

Lor bless you ! she may have it back if she wants it ! 
Why do you think the}^ took it? Lor its value? They 
knew no more of its value than I did! No! they took it 
for its uses ! They took it to tie up some of the silver plate 
in, because they had n’t sacks enough. You take it, and 
keep it ! And when ^mu have a chance,, give it back to 
yUur friend. But for to-day, you had better give it an 
airing on your shoulders.” 

So exhorted, Sybil wrapped herself in the costly shawl, 
and followed her hostess through many labj^rinths of the 
caverns, until they came out on a lonely height apparently 
yet untrodden by the foot of man. 

It was a clear, bright December day. The morning, if 
sharp and cold, was fresh and invigorating. 

They spent the middle of the day in rambling through 
the loneliest parts of the mountain fastnesses, and gather- 
ing treasure of many sorts of the sweetest nuts. The sun 
W’as sinking in the west when they turned their steps 
towards the caverns. 

“ The men will be sure to be home to supper. They 
never fail supper! And now we will be able to give them 
walnuts with their wine!” said Gentiliska, as they reen- 
tered the labyrinth that led them from the mountain top to 
the caverns underneath. 

Sybil’s heart shrunk within her. To the delicate and 
conscientious, there is always an exquisite torture in the 
immediate contact of the coarse and reckless. 

They reached the large cavern to find its walls brilliantly 
lighted up, and the supper table laid and well laden, as on 
the preceding evening. 


86 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


“We will go to the sleeping cavern, and lay off our 
bonnets and shawls. Then we will he ready for supper. 
Fortunately we donT have to dress for the evening at our 
house \ ” laughed the girl, leading the way to the little cave. 

When they had thrown off their wraps, they returned to 
the larger cavern to find it half full of the men. Supper 
was already on the table; and Satan, who was now in full 
evening dress, came forward and bowed to Sybil, and with 
much empressment led her to the place of honor at the 
board, and seated himself beside her. 

Moloch took a stool immediately opposite the pair, where 
he could gaze at will upon the new beauty. 

When all were seated the feast began. Satan gave his 
whole attention to Sybil, whom he treated with tender 
deference. 

As the supper progressed and the wine passed around, 
the men, under the exhilarating influence, grew merry and 
talkative. 

“ Hope the beaks ’ll have a good time up at the old 
Haunted Chapel to-day! This is the second day they’ve 
been there looking for us ! And oh ! did n’t they think 
they ’d struck a rich lead when they found that swell 
Berners up there ! They thought they had got his wife too, 
for certain! That’s what’s brought them back to-day! 
they know they can’t find us there; but they hope to find 
her,” said one of the robbers. 

But his speech was not received with general favor. And 
when he stupidly pursued the theme, not understanding the 
menacing look of Satan, one of his companions dug an elbow 
in his side, and called out : 

“ Stow all that, you stupid donkey ! Bo n’t you see the 
lady you are talking about is at the table ? ” 

The rebuke was almost as bad as the offense had been ; 
but it had its effect in silencing the talkative offender. 

But good-humor was soon restored. The walnuts were 


GENTILISKA DUBARRY. 87 

placed upon the table with the dessert, and many compli- 
ments were passed upon the pretty hands that had gathered 
them for the feast. 

But just in the midst of their merry-making the whole 
part}’- were startled by a tremendous explosion, that seemed 
to shake the mountain side. 

All sprung to their feet, and stood gazing in amazement 
at each other until the echoes of the thunder died away. 
There was silence for a moment after, and then Moloch 
suddenly burst into a peal of laughter, in which he was 
soon joined by all his companions, with the exception of 
Satan, who sat frowning upon them. 

What is the meaning of this rudeness ? he sternly 
demanded. 

^Oh, boss! don^t you know? We are laughing at the 
beaks I They have blown themselves up in the old Haunted 
Chapel ! answered one of the party. 

“ Good Heaven ! A wholesale murder ! I was not pre- 
pared for that!’^ exclaimed the captain. 

A wholesale murder, or a wholesale accident, if you 
please, boss ! but no murder. Nobody told them to take 
lights down into that vault, where there was gunpowder 
lying around loose ! ,Aiid if the trap was set for one med- 
dler and caught a dozen, why, so much the better, I say 1 
And I do n’t think it could a caught much less than a 
dozen, seeing as there were about fifteen or twenty men in 
the chapel when I spied it this afternoon from my cover in 
the woods on the mountain behind it, and I reckon there 
must a’ been more than half of them killed.” 

Hush ! ” said Satan ; do n’t you see that this lady is 
nearly fainting with terror ? ” 

Sybil was indeed as white as a ghost, and on the very 
verge of swooning. But she managed to command nerve 
enough to ask ; 

“ W'as — can you tell me — was my husband in the chapel 
this afternoon ? ” 


88 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Oh, no, ma’am ! ” answered the robber, who had imme- 
diately taken his cue from the glance of his captain’s eye. 
“ Oh, no, ma’am, I met him on his road to Blackville early 
this afternoon.” 

This was partly true, for the man had really seen Lyon 
Berners when he was walking along the river road to meet 
Joe. Sybil believed it to be wholly true, and uttered an 
exclamation of thankfulness. 

The wine passed more freely, and the men grew merrier, 
wilder, and more uproarious. Sybil became very much 
alarmed ; and not so much by the noisy orgies of these 
rude revellers, as by the dreadful gaze of Moloch fixed upon 
her from the opposite end of the table where he sat, and 
the offensive language of Satan’s eyes whenever they turned 
towards her. 

At length, unable to bear the trial longer, she arose from 
her seat, and courtesying to these brigands as she would 
have done to any set of gentlemen of whom she was taking 
leave, Sybil left the cavern, followed by Geiitiliska. 

I must take you to another grotto. You cannot occupy 
mine to-night,” said the girl, with evident reluctance. 

“ But, oh ! why, why ma}^ I not stay with you ? I am 
afraid to sleep alone in this terrible place !” pleaded Sybil. 

I have a reason, but I cannot tell it to j^ou now. Yes, 
I will, too ! I will tell you at all risks ! Then it is this : 
My chamber is no longer safe for you ! I myself am not 
strong enough to protect j^ou ! You might be carried off 
forcibly from my side ! I must hide you where no devil 
ma}’^ find you to-night ! ” wdiispered the girl. 

“ My blood curdles I Oh, help me if you can ! ” cried 
Sybil. 

I cannot help you ! I can only hide you ! I could 
perhaps save you from insult by sober men ; but who shall 
save you from maniacs, mad with drink ? ” 

Yet you have alwaj^s saved yourself! How have you 
managed to do so ? ” 


GENTILISKA BUBARRY. 


89 


I have grown up among them, their child ! That 
makes all the difference ! 

“Oh, Heaven help me! Would I were dead!” cried 
Sybil, in an agony of terror. 

“ Oh, bosh ! that ’s the cry of weakness ! I ’ve seen some 
hard times, but I never wished myself dead yet!” said the 
girl, as she led her guest through a labyrinth of small 
caverns until she reached one smaller and more remote 
than the others. 

“ Oil, do not leave me here alone ! ” pleaded Sybil. “ If 
I must stay, stay with me ! I do not fear death ; but oh ! 
I fear these men ! Do not leave me ! ” 

“ I must, for- your own safety. They must not miss me, 
or their suspicions will be aroused.” 

Then pointing to a bed of moss, and recommending her 
guest to lie down and seek repose, Gentiliska glided away 
tlirough the labyrinth of caves and was lost to sight and 
hearing. ' 

Sybil’s first impulse was to start up and run after her 
hostess, but she restrained herself, and sank half fainting 
upon the heap of moss. 

There was but a faint sparkling of light in the cave, 
coming from a crevice in the roof through which the moon- 
light entered, and glancing down, struck here and there 
upon the stalactites on the walls. 

“ Seek repose,” had been the advice of Gentiliska. 

Sybil dared not seek it if she could, and could not have 
found it if she had. She lay there with her eyes wide 
open, staring towards the entrance of the cavern, as if she 
feared the sudden apparition of some horrid shape. She 
lay there with every nerve strung up to the severest ten- 
sion, and every faculty of mind and body on the alert. 
She scarcely breathed, but lay motionless, and watched and 
listened intently. Hour after hour passed in this stern 
tension of her frame, this trance-like stillness and silence. 


90 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


when at length she fancied she heard a creeping, stealthy 
step approacliing. Nearly frozen with terror, she listened 
and watched more intently than ever. Alone, helpless, in 
darkness and solitude, what horrid fate must she meet I 
The creeping, cautious footstep drew nearer, nearer ! 

Oh, Heaven ! it was no fancy ! The entrance of the 
cavern was more deeply darkened for one moment, and then 
the huge form of Moloch stood within the cavern and 
nearly filled it up. 

Paralyzed with horror, Sybil could neither move nor cry 
out — not even when the monster approached the bed and 
put his profane hand upon her face. 


CHAPTER VITI. 

NELLY TO THE RESCUE. 

She never, never failed a friend. 

And never feared a foe. — N icholl, 

Help was at hand. There came a sound as of the rush- 
ing of tiny feet, and suddenly the little Skye terrier rushed 
into the cavern, and with joyous barks darted upon her 
mistress’s bed; but instantly these barks of joy were 
changed into a howl of rage and pain, as she sprang at the 
throat of the robber, and closing her teeth upon his wind- 
pipe, hung there like “ grim death.” 

With a yell of agony, the giant threw up his hands and 
seized the dog, to tear her off ; but Nelly held fast. He 
might have torn her in two, but he could not have made her 
let go her hold upon his throat. He raised his huge fist to 
brain her. 

“ Do n’t hurt the dog,” cried Sybil, starting up and seiz- 
ing his arm ; her palsy of terror dispelled by her love for 
her faithful little four-footed friend. 




NELLY TO THE RESCUE. 91 

Down, traitor and coward ! ” shouted another voice. 

And all started and looked around to recognize the robber 
captain standing before them, with a pistol levelled straight 
at the head of his lieutenant. 

“ Call this brute off, then. She ’s cutting my throat with 
her cursed teeth. Call her off, I say, or I’ll wring her in 
two, like a worm,” gurgled the half-strangled monster, as 
he shook off the clasp of Sybil, and seized the little dog. 

Drop your hand, you villain, or I ’ll shoot you where 
you stand ! ” thundered the captain, cocking his pistol. 

The bully instantly obeyed. 

Come, Nelly ! dear Nelly ! ” called Sybil, sinking to a 
sitting posture on the side of her bed. 

The obedient little terrier immediately let go her hold, 
and leaped down into her mistress’ lap, and with barks of 
delight began to lick her hands and face. 

Sybil, utterly overcome by the rapid events and conflict- 
ing emotions of the last few minutes, burst into a passion 
of tears, as she clasped the little creature to her bosom. 

“ Madam,” said the robber captain — suddenly changing 
his whole manner as he turned towards the lad3'’, took off 
his hat, and subdued his voice to its softest and smoothest 
tones — ‘‘ Madam, I will relieve you of the presence of this 
ruffian ; and to-morrow I will make such amends to you, 
for this insult, as may lie in my povver.” 

Sybil did not and could not answer him. She only 
clasped her little dog closer to her heart and wept. 

“ And now, sir,” said the captain, sternly, wheeling 
around upon his huge lieutenant, and pointing to the outlet 
of the grotto, “ go before me out of this ! This crime must 
be accounted for at another time and place.” 

The crestfallen monster slouched out of the cavern, fol- 
lowed by his captain, who turned once more, at leaving, to 
say : 

‘‘ Best in peace now, lady. You shall no more be dis- 
turbed. And I will send Gentiliska to stay with you.’^ 


92 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Oh thanks ! thanks ! do so ! pray do so ! said Sybil, 
eagerly. 

When she was left alone with her little dog, she fell to 
caresvsing and fondling her, as w»ith all her heart and soul. 

“ Oh, Nelly ! darling Nelly ! what a little heroine you are ! 
But how did you come here, Nelly.*?” she inquired, holding 
the little creature’s curly head between her hands, and gaz- 
ing down into its soft brown eyes. ‘‘ How did you find me, 
Ndly ? ” 

Nellj’- lapped her lady’s cheek, and then jumped down and 
ran to the outlet of the cavern, and then ran back and 
jumped again into her lady’s lap. 

“ Oh, yes, Nelly dear, I understand. You came that way 
and found me here. But that tells me nothing. How did 
you know I was here, little doggy? ”- 

Poor little Sk^’e terrier ! She knew that a question was 
asked her, and she tried her best in her eloquent dumb way 
to answer it. And while she was jumping off and on her 
mistress’ lap, and whining and caressing, the cavern door 
was darkened once more, and Gentiliska entered. 

“ Oh, I am so glad you have come ! Be quiet, Nelly, 
darling ; that ’s a girl, you know,” exclaimed Sybil, speak- 
ing first to her visitor, and then to her little dog, who 
seemed inclined to make some hostile demonstrations against 
the supposed enemy. 

“ Why, what dog is that ? ” inquired Gentiliska, her 
mouth and eyes wide open with amazement. 

“ She is 97?y dear, darling, devoted, brave little 

Nelly,” replied Sybil, piling on the complimentary adjec- 
tives. And I leave it to any reader of mine if Nelly did 
not deserve them all. 

“But — how on the face of the earth did she come 
here ? ” gasped Gentiliska. 

“ She did n’t come on the face of the earth, but through 
the bowels of the earth. So she says, and I never knew 
her to tell a falsehood.” 


NELLY TO THE RESCUE. 


93 


But — how came she to trace you here ? ” 

Ah ! that just what I have been inquiring of her, 
and slie has been trying to explain to me. You know these 
four-footed friends of ours have a good deal of difficulty in 
communicating with us — through our stupidit}’^, bless you, 
not theirs. They can understand us a great deal better 
than we can comprehend them. Nelly knows very well 
what I ask her, and she answers my question ; but I do n't 
in the least understand what the says.” 

“ But — when did she come ? You know that.” 

She came in the nick of time to fly at Moloch’s throat 
and hold him till Satan came to deliver me.” 

Here the girl burst into a peal of laughter that almost 
offended Sybil, who gravely inquired : 

“ What is the matter ? ” 

I am laughing at your hallucination that Satan came, 
to deliver you.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” inquired Sybil, surprised and 
displeased at the girl’s untimely mirth. 

“ Why, you goose,” laughed Gentiliska, “ do n’t you 
know, can ’t you see, that Satan is a hundred times worse 
and a thousand times more dangerous than Moloch ? I 
tell you that Captain ‘ Inconnu ’ came to your cave on the 
same errand that brought his lieutenant here. Only, as he 
happened to be the last comer, and as he found the other 
here, he chose to take credit as your deliverer ! Bosh ! 
your little dog saved you. No other under Heaven did ! ” 

“ How do you know these facts ? ” 

By watching. You know when I left you ? ” 

^‘Yes; goon.” 

“ As I was returning to my own den, I saw a shadow 
pass before me, and then I knew that we had been tracked 
to this place, but whether by Satan or Moloch, or any other 
ofte of the band, I could not tell. By the time I had crept 
back to the entrance of the large cavern, the spy must have 


94 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


regained his place, for they were all at the table as 1 had 
left them.’’ 

Why then did you not return to me, since you knew 
that my place of concealment was discovered?” inquired 
Sybil, reproachfully. 

Because I could do you better service by staying out- 
side and watching, which I did. About an hour ago, as I 
sat watching and listening in mj^ own den, I heard a 
stealthy step, and peeping out, I saw the huge form of Mo- 
loch stealing towards your retreat. I stepped out silently, 
and stole softly after him, with the full intention of running 
back, giving the alarm, and raising the whole band, in case 
my suspicions shoflld be true, that he intended to harm 
you. Of course I could not have helped you at all, if I 
had been in here with you. He would n’t have let me pass 
out to have roused the men. He would have brained me 
on the spot, and had you at his mercy, do you see ? ” 

^^Yes, yes, I see. Oh, Heaven! deliver me from this 
dreadful place ! ” sighed Sybil. 

All in good time. I followed Moloch, until I saw him 
take the little turn that led to your den. Then I turned 
and fled, or was about to fly to rouse the men to your 
rescue, when I saw the graceful figure of Satan gliding to- 
wards me. As in that half-darkness I had recognized Mo- 
loch only by his huge form, so now I knew Satan only by 
his graceful, gliding motions. I drew back into a crevice 
of the rock, and waited until he had passed me and taken 
the same turn towards your den. And then I knew that 
you were quite safe. Either of these men alone would 
have been fatal to you ; but together they were perfectly 
harmless. But just then I heard a dog bark, where never 
a dog had barked before. I stole after Satan towards the 
entrance of this place, and hid myself to listen to the fun. 
I heard the row. Oh, was n’t Captain ‘ Inconnu’s ’ right- 
eous indignation fine ? At length I heard Satan order Mo- 


NELLY TO THE KESCUE. 


95 


loch to leave the place, and then I heard him tell you that 
he would send me to stay with you. Then I thought it 
w^as about time for me to leave, and I stole away and fled 
as fast as I could towards my own den. And when I got 
there I covered myself up in my bed and feigned sleep, 
when the gallant captain came to call me. So here I am.’’ 

Oh that Heaven would deliver me from this dreadful 
place ! ” repeated Sj^bil. 

“ All in good time, as I said before. And now I think 
you had better tr}'^ to sleep. The little dog will watch us 
and give the alarm, in case any other daring marauder 
should venture to intrude on us,” counselled the girl. 

Sleep ! I have scarcely slept a whole night since I was 
forced to leave ray home. Sleep ! the best sleep I have had 
has been more like swooning, and has befallen me in the 
day-time. I cannot sleep.” 

‘‘Well, then, please to be quiet while I sleep. I’m 
fagged out with all this,” said Gentiliska, throwing herself 
down on the mossy floor of the cave, and settling herself 
comfortabh" to rest. 

Meanwhile Sj^bil sat with her tired little dog lying on 
her lap. She was too wretched to think of resting, too 
anxious to think of anything but escape. Nothing that 
could happen to her in the outer world seemed so appalling 
as the dangers that surrounded her here. And while her 
companion slept soundly, Sybil racked her brain for means 
of escape. 

People before now, chained in dungeons and weakened 
by imprisonment, have nevertheless contrived to burst their 
fetters and break through bolts and bars, and press through 
guards, and effect their freedom. And here was she, a cap- 
tive certaiulj', but neither fettered nor locked up, nor 
guarded except by one sleeping girl. Why could she not 
make good her escape ? What should hinder her, if only 
she knew how to find her way out of this labyrinth ? 


96 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


In her restlessness and distress, she groaned and lifted 
her hands to her head. 

Her little dog immediately woke up, and in quick sympa- 
thy climbed up to her bosom, and whining, licked her face. 

A sudden inspiration filled the soul of Sybil, and directed 
her course. 

“ If this poor little four-footed friend of mine, with noth- 
ing but her instinct and her affection to guide and sustain 
her, if she contrived to find me, hid away as I was from all 
human help, surely 1, with my higher intelligence and 
greater powers, should be able to find my way out of this 
labyrintli with her help.’^ 

Saying this to herself, Sj^bil tenderly caressed her little 
dog, then lifted it to her bosom, wrapped Beatrix Pendle- 
ton’s camel’s hair shawl closely around her, and went to 
the entrance of the cavern through which little Nelly had 
entered. 

Here she paused for a moment to listen. All was silent 
except for the deep breathing of Gentiliska, that only 
proved how profound was the sleep of the girl. 

Then she caressed her little dog again, saying in a low 
voice : 

Lyon, Nelly ! Where is Lyon ? ” 

The little Skye terrier pricked, up her ears and whim- 
pered. 

Then Sybil was sure that Nelly understood her words. 

“Let us go find Nelly ; Lyon! Lyon! Lyon!^^ 

said Sybil, setting the little dog down and harking her on 
by the way she had come. 

Nelly remembered where she had left “ Lyon,” and so 
with a glad bark she leapt forward and ran on as fast as the 
tortuous nature of the dark subterranean passage would 
permit her to do ; pausing now and then to rest herself, and 
to allow her mistress time to overtake her. 

“Poor, dear little faithful Nelly! don’t run so fast. 


NELLY TO THE RESCUE. 


9T 


You were tired almost to death when you came in from 
your first journey, and now you set out immediately on this 
the moment I ask you to do it ; but abate your zeal, dear 
little friend, or you will not be able to hold out to the end,” 
said Sybil, sitting down and caressing her little dog while 
they both rested. 

When they re-commenced their journey, they found the 
passage growing narrower, darker, and more tortuous than 
before. They were compelled to move slo^dy and cau- 
tiously. 

Sybil had already recognized the natural underground 
road by which she had been brought to the robber’s cave; 
but she did not know this portion of it. So she supposed 
that she must have been brought through it while in that 
state of unconsciousness into which she had fallen from ter- 
ror on first being seized by the masked and shrouded forms 
of the men who had carried her off. She therefore hoped 
that she was near the outlet of the subterranean passage. 

But where that outlet might be, she could not guess. 
The last she remembered before falling into that swoon of 
horror, was the vault of the Haunted Chapel., The first 
she saw, on recovering herself, was the middle of the sub- 
terranean passage. But whether that passage had started 
from the vault, or whether the men had carried her any dis- 
tance over the upper earth, before descending into it, she 
had no means of knowing or surmising. She must wait 
for the revelation at the end of this underground road. 

The end was fast approaching. Far ahead, a little, dim 
dot of gray light kept dodging right and left before her 
eyes, following as it were the abrupt turning of the passage. 

It drew nearer, nearer, and now at last it was before her. 

The little dog tliat had been trotting beside her mistress, 
now sprang past her and began to dig away at the hole with 
her paws. 

Sybil stooped down, and peered through it, By the early ' 

ij 


98 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


light of the now dawning day, slie discerned a section of a 
foundation wall, that she felt sure must be a part of the old 
vault under the Haunted Chapel. 

■The little dog now jumped through the hole, and turned 
around and pawed and whimpered, as if inviting and 
expecting Sybil to follow her. 

She understood the situation well enough now. She 
knew that tliis Small hole was the entrance from the under- 
ground passage into the vault, and that it must have 
become partly filled up by the falling in of the bricks and 
mortar at the blowing up of the church. She went to 
work to try to remove the obstructions. It was a work of 
more time and toil than of real difficulty. With her deli- 
cate hands she began to take away the broken stones, 
timbers, and plaster, until she pulled out a short, narrow 
piece of plank, which she immediately began to use as a 
tool to dig away the refuse. A half an hour’s hard work 
cleared her way into the vault. She passed in, and once 
more saw the dome of heaven above her head. 

Little Nelly jumped around her with delighted barks, 
and then ran up the broken walls of the vault, and turned 
around and looked at her and barked, as if to say : 

“ This way ! this way ! 

But the irregularities in the dilapidated wall, that fur- 
nished a sure foothold for Nelly’s little feet, would not serve 
lier mistress’s turn. So Sybil looked about the place, and 
cast around in her mind to consider how she should contrive 
to reach the upper ground. She soon saw the way, but she 
liad to rest before she could commence a new work. So she 
sat down and called the dog to her, and both remained 
quiet for about ten minutes. And then Sybil arose and 
went to work, and piled up the bricks and stones, until she 
had raised for herself a rude stairway half up to the top. 
By these, at some little risk of life and limb, she climbed 
out of the vault, and found herself standing on the edge of 


a lieap of rubbish, which was all that remained of the old 
Haunted Chapel. 

" Here again she sat down to look around her. The sun 
was just rising from behind the mountain, and tinging all 
the wintr\^ scene with the golden hues of autumn. Tliougli 
it was a clear, cold, frosty morning, Sybil was perspiring 
from her late hard work, so she drew her heavy shawl around 
her shoulders to protect her from a chill while she rested. 
The little terrier, who had leaped up after her mistress, 
would not rest, but continued to jump about and bark, as if 
to testify her joy and triumph in a work accomplished. 
Ever}” leap and bark said as plainly as tongue could have 
spoken the words : 

“ I have found her, and brought her back ! I knew I 
could ! I knew I could ! I have done it at last ! I have 
done it at last ! ’’ 

“ I know you have, Nell}^ dear, and I love you belter 
than anybody in the world except Ljmn ! But now I want 
you to help me to find Ljmn, Nelly ! Lijon ! Lyon ! ’’ said 
Sybil, holding the little terrier’s face between her hands 
and gazing into its loving brown eyes. 

Nelly jumped away at her bidding and ran all over the 
place snuffing zealously for some moments, and then find- 
ing herself clearly at fault, ran back and whimpered her 
disappointment on her mistress’ lap. 

“ You have lost trace and scent of Lyon ! Oh, Nelly ! 
Nelly ! what shall we do ? Venture back boldly to Black 
Hall ? Bun right in the teeth of the law officers,'and be 
snapped up by them ? ” sighed Sybil. 

Nelly understood ^^a horror in the words, if not the 
words,” and howled dismally. 

Just at that moment a halting step was heard approach- 
ing, and a sad voice sighing: 

“ I sorter can ’t give her up ! No, I can ’t ! Ef she did 
bite me, it wa’u’t outen malice to me, but outen dewotion to 

IL.ofC. 


100 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


the mistess — on’y to make me drap her down, so she could 
go back to dis vault and wait for her mistess, which I do 
expect she have starved to death by dis time ! But I ’ll 
see. Nelly. Nelly ! ” 

Sybil’s heart leaped with joy at recognizing the voice of 
her faithful servant Joe. And Nelly jumped forward with a 
crj^ of delight to meet him. 

So 3’ou is here yet in dis supernumerary speer. Thank 
my Marster in Heaven for dat ! ” exclaimed Joe, stooping 
painfull}', while he leaned upon his crutch, to lift the little 
dog to his bosom. “But who dat j'oung o’man, Nelly?” 
continued Joe, whose ej'esight was none of the best, pausing 
abruptl}^ and staring at Sybil, who was completel}’’ disguised 
b}’- the large India shawl and the red merino gown, both of 
wdiich were entirelj' opposite to her usual style of dress. 

Joe hobbled towards the supposed stranger cautiously. 

“ Do n’t you know me, dear old Joe ? ” inquired Sybil, 
dropping the shawl from her head and rising to her feet. 

AJi-h-h-ah ! yelled Joe in a prolonged howl of horror 
at what he took to be a ghost ! 

And then, as he could not run awa}’, he dropped dog and 
crutch, fell flat upon his face and roared for mere}'. 

S^'bil and her little dog both tried to soothe and reassure 
him — Sybil by repeating to him over and over again that 
she was alive and well, and that there was nothing what- 
ever to fear at that moment; and little Nell}', b^'-running 
around him and trying to poke her nose under his face to 
find a place to kiss or to lick. 

But Joe for a time was perfectly inaccessible to reason ; 
and Sybil, in discouragement, left him to recover himself 
alone, while she went and sat down at some distance to wait 
the issue of the event. 

After a little while Joe slowly lifted up his head, and cau- 
tiously glanced around, whispering : 

“ Is she gone ? ” 


NELLY TO THE RESCUE. 101 

Ko,” answered Sybil, sharply ; I am not gone ! I am 
sitting here waiting for you to come to your senses ! ” 

Joe, who after the first glimpse had not dared to look 
upon the ghost, now ventured from this safe distance to 
steal a glance. The glance grew into a gaze, and then he 
spoke : 

“ Miss Sybil — ’’ 

Well, Joe ? ” 

“ Is it jmu ? ” 

Yes, it is 1.” 

“ But is you alibe 
Yes, I hn alive.’’ 

“ Is you sure ? ” 

“ I am hungry and mad ! That should make me sure.” 
“ — Mad ’long o ’ me. Miss Sybil ? ” 

‘‘ Yes ; mad with you for being such a fool ! ” 

But I thought you was a ghostess ! ” 

“ Bosh ! you have n’t as much sense as little Nelly! ” ex- 
claimed Sybil, affecting more anger than slie really felt. 

^‘Butan’t you dead?” mysteriously inquired Joe, gaz- 
ing at the pale face of his mistress, now verj^ pale indeed 
through all that she had suffered. “ An’t you really dead, 
Miss Sybil?” 

“ Not much, Joe.” 

But wan’t you robbed and murdered by them riporate 
will ai ns ? ” 

^‘Neither the one nor the other, Joe! I am safe and 
sound, and have my money and jewels still about me.” 

“ But — wan't 3mu reducted ? ” 

I was aMucted, Joe ; but not harmed ! It is a long 
story, Joe. I cannot tell it now, because I want to know 
about mj" husband. Is he safe ? ” 

“Yes, Miss Sybil, he ’s all right now ! only grieving arter 
you ! ’cause everybody beliebes as you perished in the blow- 
ing up of the old chapel. Bord ! where was you all the 
time ? Did Nelly find ^mu ? ” 


102 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Yes, IS'elly found me ; but — ” 

Lord ! tlie sense of that little thing ! ” 

— But tell me about my husband ! Where is he I” 

“ He is at Capping Pendulum’s, a doing very well now.” 

“ Doing very well now ! That means he has been doing 
badi}’- lately! Has he been ill?” exclaimed Sybil, in 
breathless anxiety. , 

‘‘Ho, Miss Sybil ; but he was in the old Haunted Chapel 
when de debbil blowed it up.” 

“Oh, good heavens!” cried Sybil, clasping her hands, 
and unable to speak another word. 

, “ Do n’t be scared ! he wasn ’t hurt not to speak of ; only 

stunned and bruised a bit. And he.’s all right now. On’y 
grievin’ of hisse’f to death, which is perfec’ly nateral, you 
see. Goodness knows as I myse’f hasn’t eat a meal’s wit- 
tels, nor likewise sleeped a wink o’ sleep, since gone j-ou’s 
been ! And oh ! how I thank mj^ Heavenly Marster as has 
’stored you to us once more alive and well ! ” cried Joe, 
hobbling towards Sybil, sinking at her feet, and giving w'ay 
to his feelings in a burst of sobs and tears. 

Sybil raised him up, and then noticed for the first time 
how lame he was. 

“ It’s nothin’ to speak on. Miss Sybil. On’y a sprained 
ankle. I can get on well enough with a crutch. And here 
I am as willin’ and able to sarve you as ever,” said the poor 
fellow, earnestly. 

“ Thanks, dear Joe ! I want you, if you can, to go with 
me to my husband immediately.” 

“ But, Miss Sybil, honey, you look so pale and weak and 
wore out. Better stay here while I go and get a conwey- 
ance.” 

“Ho, no, no, Joe ! It would take you too long, and I 
cannot wait. I can walk,” said Sj’bil, impatiently rising, 
and drawing the shawl up over her head, for she had no hat 
or bonnet. 


THE SECOND FLIGHT.. 


103 


Name o’ de Lord, then come on, honey,” replied Joe, 
•who knew it would be useless to oppose his mistress when 
she was fully bent on any purpose. 

They set out together, picking their way slowly over the 
heaps of rubbish that filled the churchyard and lay between 
them and the narrow path leading through the thicket to 
the river road. 

Little Nelly followed faithfully at their heels. 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE SECOND FLIGHT. 

A beam of comfort, like the moon through clouds, 

Gilds the black horror and directs their way. — Dbtdeit. 

It was yet earlj^ morning, and Lyon Berners still lay on 
his comfortable bed in the spacious front chamber, at Pen- 
dleton Hall. The window shutters were open, admitting a 
fine view of the wooded mountains, not yet wholly divested 
of their gay autumn hues. A fine wood fire blazed in the 
broad fireplace. A nice breakfast stood on a little stand by 
the bed-side. A good-humored, motherly looking negro 
woman presided over the little meal, while Captain Pendle- 
ton stood by the invalid, trying to persuade him to take 
nourishment. 

‘‘ But I have no inclination, dear friend,” pleaded Mr. 
Berners, as he reached out his pale hand, took a morsel of 
bread from the plate, and put it to his lips. 

“ You must eat without inclination, then, Berners. It is 
your duty to live,” remarked Captain Pendleton. 

But, in the name of Heaven, what have I left to live 
for ? ” groaned the bereaved husband. 

For a future of usefulness, if not of happiness j for a 


1 


104 TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 

future of duty, if not of doraestic joys,” replied the captain, 
earnestly. 

footsteps were heard upon the stairs without, hut no one 
heeded them. 

^ Duty,’ ‘ usefulness ! ’ ” bitterly echoed Lyon Berners. 

1 might indeed have lived and labored for them, and for 
my country and my kind, if — if — Oh, Sybil ! Sybil ! Oh, 
Sybil! Sybil! My young, sweet wife!’^ He broke off, 
and groaned with the insufferable, tearless agony of a strong 
man’s grief. 

“Here she is, marster ! Bress de Lord, here she is, 
and Kelly too ! Kelly found her ! ” frantically exclaimed 
Joe, bursting open the chamber door, while Sybil flew past 
him and threw herself with a sob of delight into the arms 
of her husband. His brain reeled with the sudden, over- 
whelming joy, as he clasped his wife to his heart. 

“ Good Heaven, man ! why did you not prepare your 
master for this ? ” was the first question Captain Pendleton 
thought of asking the negro. 

Joe stared, and found nothing to answer. He did not 
understand preparation. 

Kelly jumped upon the bed, and insisted upon being re- 
cognized; but nobody noticed her. Koble humanity is sin- 
gularly ungrateful to their four-footed friends. 

Lyon Berners, forgetful of everj^body and everything 
else in the world, was gazing fondly, wonderingly into his 
wife’s beautiful pale face. Sis face was like marble. 

“ My own, my own,” he murmured. “ By what miracle 
have you been preserved ? ” 

Sybil could not answer ; she could only sob for joy at this 
reunion, forgetful, poor child, of the awful danger in which 
she still stood. 

Captain Pendleton remembered it. He first looked 
around to take note of who was in the room. There were 
Mr. and Mrs. Berners, himself, Joe, and the colored woman 


THE SECOND FLIGHT. 


105 


\ 


(Margy — only one new witness, if there were no others out- 
side who might have seen the entrance of Sybil. 

He went and locked the door, that no one else should 
enter the chamber. And then he called Joe apart to the 
distant window. 

“ You very reckless fellow ! tell me who besides ourselves 
have seen Mrs. Berners enter this house.” 

“ hTot a singlj’- soul, marster, outen dis room. We walk 
all de way from de Haunted Chapel, and did n’t meet no- 
bo<ly we knowed. Miss Sybil she keep de shawl over her 
head. Dem as did meet us could n’t a told who she was 
or even if she was white or brack. When we got home 
here, I jes opens de door like I always do, and Miss Sybil 
she follow me in, likewise Nelly. Nobody seed us, likewise 
we seed nobodj', ’cept it was Jerome, as was jest a passiii’ 
outen de back door wid a breakfast tray in his hands ; but 
he did n’t see us, acause his back was to us, which that fel- 
low is always too lazj" to look over his own shoulder, no 
matter what ma}’' be behind him,” said Joe, contemptu- 
ously. 

“ That is true ; but lucky on this occasion. Then jmu 
are certain that no one out of this room knows of Mrs. 
Berner’s presence in the house ? ” 

Sartain sure, marster ! ” answered Joe, in the most em- 
phatic manner. 

‘‘ Then I must warn you not to hint — mind, Joe — hot so 
much as to hint the fact to any living soul,” said the cap- 
tain, solemnly. 

Hi, Marse Capping! who you think is a ’fernal fool? 
Not dis Joe,” answered the negro, indignantly. 

“Mind, then, that’s all,” repeated the captain, who 
then dismissed Joe, and beckoned the motherly looking col- 
ored woman to come to him. 

“ Margy,” he whispered, “do you understand the horri- 
ble danger in which Mrs. Berners stands ? ” 


106 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


“ Oh, m j good Lord, Marse Clement, do n’t I understand 
it ? My blood runs cold and hot by turns every time I 
look at her and think of it,” muttered the woman, with a 
dismayed look. 

“ I am glad you feel and appreciate this peril. It is said 
that no secret is safe that is known to three persons. This 
secret is known to five : Mr. and Mrs. Berners, Joe, you, 
and myself! I think I can rely on the secresy of all,” said 
Captain Pendleton, with a meaning look. 

“ You can rely on mine, Marse Clement ! I ’d suffer my 
tongue to be tored out by the roots afore ever I ’d breathe a 
word about her being here,” said the woman. 

Quite right! Now we must see about concealing her 
for a few days, until we can ship her off to some foreign 
country.” 

“To be sure, marsterj but are you certain that no one 
down stairs saw her when she came in?” 

“ Quite certain,” answered the captain. 

Meanwhile Sj^bil sat down on the chair at the side of 
Lyon’s bed, and with her hand clasped in his, began to 
tell the story of her abduction and captivity among the 
robbers. 

Lyon Berners, seeing his host now at leisure, beckoned 
him to approach and hear the strange story. 

Sybil told it briefly to her wondering audience. 

“ And if they had not carried me off, I should not now 
be at liberty,” she concluded. 

That this was true, they all agreed. 

Now Sybil had to hear the particulars of the explosion, 
and the names of its victims. She shuddered as Captain 
Pendleton went over the list. 

“ One feels the less compassion, however, when one con- 
siders that this was a case of the ‘ engineer hoist with his 
own petard.’ ” 

“ Do n’t jmu think, Marse Clement, as Mrs. Berners 


THE SECOND FLIGHT. 


107 


would be the better for a bit of breakfast ? ’’ inquired Aunt 
Margy. 

• “ Certainly. And here is Berners, touched nothing yet. 
And everything allowed to grow cold in our excitement and 
forgetfulness,’^ said Captain Pendleton, anxiously examin- 
ing into the condition of the tray. 

“ Oh, never 3’ou mind, Marse Clem., I can go down and 
fetch up some hot breakfast, and another cup and sasser, 
and then may be the master and missis will take a bit of 
breakfast here together,’^ put in Margy, as she lifted the 
tray to take it from the room. 

Be careful to let no word drop concerning our new vis- 
itor,’^ said Captain Pendleton, as he cautiously locked the 
door after the woman. 

AVhile she was gone on this errand, Sybil told her 
friends further details of her life among the mountain rob- 
bers ; among other matters, she related the story of Gentil- 
iska Diibany, at which her hearers were much surprised. 

“ I think it is easy to see through this matter,” said 
Lj’on Berners, after a pause ; “ this robber chief — this Cap- 
tain Inconnu — this Satan of the band must be, or rather 
must have been the husband of Kosa Blondelle, and most 
probably her assassin. The motive for all his crimes seems 
clear enough. He could never have been a gentleman. 
He must always have been an adventurer — a criminal ad- 
venturer. He married the beautiful young Scotch widow 
for her money, and having spent it all, and discovered 
another heiress in this poor vagrant girl, he put Eosa out 
of the wa}', that he might be free to marry another fortune. 

No devil is so bad, however, but that there is a speck of 
good about him somewhere ; and this adventurer, gambler, 
smuggler, robber, murderer was unwilling that an innocent 
woman should suffer for his crime; therefore he had you 
abducted to prevent jmu from falling into the hands of the 
law.” 


108 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


“ I do not know,” said Sybil ; but I think that in hav- 
ing me carried off, he jdelded to the threats or persuasions 
of Gentiliska, who certainly seemed to know enough of the 
matter to give her great power over him. Indeed she 
hinted as much to me. And she certainly knew of his pres- 
ence at my mask ball.” 

The daring impudence, the reckless effrontery of that 
man ! ” exclaimed Captain Pendleton, in astonishment and 
disgust. 

“ You said, dear Sybil, that he came in the character of 
Death ? ” inquired Mr. Berners. 

Yes,” replied his wife, with a shudder. 

“ Ah, then I do not wonder at that poor woman’s great 
— instinctive horror — of that mask ! I remember now that, 
every time he approached her, she shivered as with an ague 
fit. And yet she could not have suspected his identity,” 
said Mr. Berners. 

Next Sybil spoke of the discovery of the Pendleton plate 
and jewels in the possession of the robbers. 

I am glad of that, at all events, Clement, since it 
gives you a sure clue to the recovery of your stolen goods,” 
suggested Mr. Berners. 

A clue that I shall not now follow, as to do so might 
seriously compromise the safety of Mrs. Berners. Our first 
care must be for her,” answered Captain Pendleton. 

Always thoughtful, always magnanimous, dear friend,” 
warmly exclaimed Lyon Berners, while Sj^bil eloquently 
looked her gratitude. 

At that moment there was heard a low tap at the door, 
and a low voice saying : 

It ’s only me, Marse Clem, with the breakfast things.” 

The captain stepped to the door, unlocked it, and ad- 
mitted Margy with the breakfast tray, and then carefully 
locked it again. 

As the woman drew nearer to Sybil, she began to stare 


THE SECOND FLIGHT. 


109 


in astonishment at the India shawl that lady wore around 
her shoulders. 

You know it, do you, Margy ? Well, yes, 3-ou are 
right. It is the celebrated Pendleton shawl that the cap- 
tain’s great-grandfather brought away from the palace of 
the Rajah, at the siege of some unpronounceable place in 
Hindostan,” smiled Sybil. 

“ That ’s it,” laughed her host. “ M^y great-grandfather, 
a captain in the British army, stole it from the Rajah, and 
Mr. Inconnu, a captain of banditti, took it from us ! ” 

But Margy was much too dignified to relish such jokes 
at the expense of her master’s family, even from her mas- 
ter’s lips. She put the tray upon the stand and arranged 
the breakfast, all in stately silence. 

Captain Pendleton, with old-fashioned hospitalitj’-, 
pressed his guests to their repast ; and so Lj’on Berners 
being propped up with pillows, and Sj'bil sitting in the 
easy-chair, with the stand placed between them, ate their 
breakfast together; not forgetting to feed little Nellj', who 
was certainly the most famished of the partj'. 

"When the breakfast was over, Margy went out with the 
tray, followed bv’ Joe. 

Mr. and Mrs. Berners being left alone with their host, 
the captain began to devise means first for her temporary 
concealment in the house, and afterwards for her successful 
removal to a seaport. 

“I confess, Mrs. Berners,” began the captain, ^‘that 
when I saw you enter this room I was as much alarmed for 
your safety as astonished at your appearance. But since 
your servant has told me, and you have confirmed his storv", 
that no one recognized you, either on the road or in the 
house, until you reached this room, my anxieties are allay- 
ed. The prevalent belief that you perished in the explo- 
sion at the Haunted Chapel has caused all pursuit of you 
to be abandoned for the present. And so long as we can 


110 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


keep you out ot the sight of others than the few who have 
alreadj’^ seen you, you will be perfectly secure.’’ 

“ Yes ; but we must not trust to this security,” inter- 
rupted Mr. Berners ; “ we must rather avail ourselves of 
this lull in the excitement, this cessation of all pursuit, to 
get as fast and far away from this place as possible. 

“ Oh, yes ! yes ! dear Lyon ! *’ eagerly exclaimed Sybil, 

let us get as fast and as far away from this place as we 
can. Let us get to Europe, or anywhere where we can have 
rest and peace. Oh ! Heaven only knows how I long for 
rest and peace ! ” 

You are both right. I shall not oppose your going ; 
but shall rather speed your departure, just as soon as Ber- 
ners shall be able to travel. But in the meantime we must 
contrive some place of safe concealment for you in the 
house,” said the captain, as he arose and opened an inner 
door leading to a small adjoining chamber. “Could you 
live in there for a few days, Mrs. Berners ?” he inquired, in 
some uneasiness. 

“Live in there! Why, that is a palace chamber com- 
pared to what I have been lately accustomed to ! ” ex- 
claimed Sj'bil, gratefully. 

“Well, then it is all right. That room is unoccupied 
and has no outlet except through this. That shall be your 
private withdrawing room when the doctor, or any one else 
who is not in our secret, happens to come into this room. 
At all other times you may safely take the freedom of both 
chambers,” said the captain cheerfully. 

“ A thousand thanks in words ; for, ah ! in all else I am 
bankrupt, and can never repay your goodness, unless Heaven 
should show me some singular favor to enable me to do it,” 
said S3'bil, fervently". 

And Lyon Berners joined warmly in her expressions of 
gratitude. 

If' you, either of you, knew how much gratification it 


THE SECOND FLIGHT. 


Ill 


gives me to serve you, you would not think it necessary 
to say a single word more on the subject!’’ exclaimed 
Clement Pendleton, flushing. 

“ And now tell me about my dear, bonny Beatrix. 
Surelj'’ she may see me ! I hope she is quite well,” said 
Sybil. 

“Trix is always well. She is now at Staunton. She is 
one of 3mur most devoted friends, Mrs. Berners, and she 
will regret not to have been home to receive you. But as 
for my^self, great as my faith is in my sister, I hardlj’’ know 
whether I arn glad or sorry for her absence on this occasion. 
Certainly the fewer witnesses there are to 3mur presence 
here, the better. Beatrix would die before she would 
knowingl3’ betray 3’’ou ; but she might do it unconsciously, 
in which case she would never forgive herself,” gravely 
replied Captain Pendleton. 

“Well, I am sorr3" not to see her. But at any rate, after 
I have gone I wish you to send her this shawl, with my 
love, b3’’ some safe messenger,” Sybil requested, smiling 
sadl3\ 

“ I will be sure to do so. She will be glad to get the old 
heirloom, which she has been bewailing ever since it was 
lost; and she will also be well pleased to owe its restitution 
to 3'ou,” replied the Captain ; and then, surmising that his 
guests might like to be left alone for an hour or two, he 
arose and retired from the room, cautioning Sybil to turn 
the key to prevent the intrusion of an3^ one who was not to 
be let into the dangerous secret of her presence in the 
house. 

Three precious hours of eacli other’s exclusive company 
the 3’oung people enjo3’ed, and then Captain Pendleton 
tapped at the door to announce the approach of the village 
doctor. Sybil unlocked the door, and hastily retreated into 
her withdrawing room, where she remained during the 
doctor’s visit. 


112 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


As soon as the physician departed, Aunt Margy came in 
with fresh water, clean towels, and everything else that was 
necessary to make the inner chamber comfortable and pleas- 
ant for the occupation of Mrs. Berners. 

When the early dinner was ready, Sybil took hers with 
her husband at his bed-side. 

And from that time, as long as they remained at Captain 
Pendleton’s house, they ate their meals together. 

Twelve tranquil days they passed at Pendleton Park. 
Their secret was well kept, at least during their stay at the 
house. 

On the thirteenth day, Mr. Berners being sufficiently 
recovered to bear the journey, the fugitive pair prepared 
for their new flight. 

Upon this occasion their disguise was admirably well 
arranged. Thej’’ were got up as mulattoes. Their faces, 
necks, and hands were carefully colored with fine brown 
umber; Sjffiihs black tresses were cut short and crimped; 
Lyon’s auburn hair and beard were also crimped, and dyed 
black ; Sybil was dressed in a suit of Margy’s Sunday 
clothes, and Lyon in a holiday suit of Joe’s. 

Serious as the circumstances were, the lady and gentle- 
man could not forbear laughing as they looked into each 
other’s faces. 

“ When we introduced mask balls into this quiet country 
place, we had no idea how long the masquerading would 
last, so far as we were concerned, had we, dear ? ” inquired 
Lyon Berners. 

Sybil smiled and shook her head. 

They were armed with a pass such as colored people 
were required to have from their masters to show to the 
authorities before they could be permitted to travel. 

Our fugitives were not now going to Norfolk, where their 
story and their persons were too well known ; but to Balti- 
more, where they were perfect strangers. So their pass was 
to this effect : 


THE SECOND FLIGHT. 


113 


Pendleton Paek, ) 
Near Blackville, Dec. 15th, 18 — . J 

To all whom it may concern : This is to certify that 
my man Csesar, with his wife Dinah, are permitted to go 
from this place to Baltimore to return between this date 
and the first of next March. 

‘^Clement Pendleton. 

This was designed to protect the supposed darkies until 
they should reach the Monumental City, where they were 
to take the first opportunity of throwing off their disguises 
and embarking under another name in the first outward 
bound ship for a foreign port. 

Provided with this protection, and with a well-filled old 
knapsack that ‘‘ Caesar ” slung over his shoulders, and with 
a well-stuffed old carpet bag that “ Dinah carried in her 
hand, the fugitive couple took a long last leave of their 
friend, and entered the farm wagon, by which Joe was to 
drive them to the hamlet of Upton, to meet the night coach 
for Baltimore. 

The night was very dark ; they could scarcely see each 
other’s faces, much less the road before them. 

“ Marster,” said Joe, in his extreme anxiety, I hopes 
you ’ll pardon the liberty, sir ; but has you thought to take 
money enough for you and the missis? ” 

“ Plenty, Joe ! Pendleton, Heaven bless him, has seen 
to all that,” smiled Mr. Berners. 

“ And, Marster, sir, I hopes as you ’ve made some ’range- 
ments as how' we may hear from you when you gets over 
jmnder.” 

“ Certainly, Joe. A correspondence that will be both 
sure and secret has been contrived between the captain and 
myself.” 

“ And, Missis,” said Joe, turning weepingly towards his 
lady, “when you’re over yonder, don’t forget poor Joej 
but send for him as soon as ever you can.” 

7 


114 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


“ Indeed I will, Joe,’’ promised Sybil. 

And, missis ! please do n’t let little Nelly forget me, 
neither. I love that little thing like a child ! 

“ Nelly will not forget you, Joe.” 

x\nd the little dog, that Sybil had insisted.on tvaking ..with 
her, even at the risk of its being recognized as hers, now 
jumped up from her place at her mistress’ feet, and ran and 
licked Joe’s face, as if to assure him of her continued love. 

At which, for the first time, Joe burst out crying, and 
sobbed hard. 

“Come, my man, prove your devotion to j'our mistress by 
deeds, not tears ! Drive fast, or we will miss the coach,” 
Lyon Berners advised. 

Joe wiped his ej^es with the cuff of his coat, and whipped 
up his horses, and they rattled over the rocky road for an 
hour or more before they reached the little hamlet, where 
they were to wait for the coach. It w'as very late, and all 
Upton was asleep, with the exception of the hostlers at the 
stable, where the coach stopped to change horses. Here Joe 
drew' up his w'agon, but his passengers retained their seats 
while waiting for the coming of the stage-coach. They had 
not waited more than five minutes, w’hen they heard the 
guard’s w^arning horn blow’’, and the huge vehicle rumble 
down the street, and pull up before the stable door. 

Very quickly the tired horses w'ere taken out and led 
away to rest, and the fresh ones brought forth. 

Meanwhile Ljmn Berners alighted, and spoke to the 
agent, to take places for him-self and his wife. 

“ Show' your pass, my man ! show your pass ! We can ’t 
take you without a pass. How do we know but you are 
running aw’ay ? ” objected the agent. 

L^’on Berners smiled bitterly to think how near the man 
had inadventertly approached the truth. He handed up 
the pass, w’bich the agent carefully examined before ho 
returned it, saying : 


THE SECOND FLIGHT. 


115 


‘‘Yes, that’s all right ; hut you and the girl will have to 
get up on top, there. We can ’t have any darldes inside, 
you know. And in fact, if w'e could, there ’s no room, j^ou 
see ; the inside is full.” 

“Ofesar” helped “ Dinah ” up on the top of the coach, 
and then climbed after her. Joe handed up the little dog; 
and was about to take a dangerously atfecting leave of 
his beloved master and mistress, when luckily the coachman 
cracked his whip and the horses started. 

Joe watched it out of sight, and then got into his seat on 
the wagon, and drove back to Pendleton Park, the most dis- 
consolate darkey under the sun. 

Meanwhile the flying pair pursued their journey, almost 
happ}’', because at length they w-ere together. 

Soon after sunrise the next morning the stage reached the 
station at which it w'as to breakfast. Not wishing to sub- 
ject their disguise to the too prying ej'es of strangers in 
broad daylight, they took the provisions that they had 
brought along, and w’ent apart in the woods to eat them, 
after wdiich they resumed their places on the top of the 
coach, in time for its starting. 

At noon, when the coach stopped to dine, they went apart 
again to satisfy their hunger. 

It was not until night, when they reached an obscure 
road-side inn, that they dared to enter a house or ask for a 
cup of tea. Being “darkies,” they were sent to the kitchen, 
wdiere the}’’ were regaled with a very hot pot of the beverage 
that “cheers but not inebriates.” 

Here also, as they had to change coaches, they were re- 
quired to show their pass before they could be permitted to 
take their uncomfortable seats on the top of the vehicle to 
continue their journey. 

Thej'- travelled both by day and night, never giving 
themselves any rest. The policy of the first day was con- 
tinued to the end of their journey. They always took their 


116 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


meals apart from other people during the broad daylight, 
denying themselves the comfort of a cup of tea or coffee 
until night, when, in some dimly lighted country kitchen, 
they could safely indulge in that refreshment. 

At the end of the third day they arrived at Baltimore. 

It was just nightfall when they reached the inn where 
the stage stopped. They alighted, with knapsack, carpet 
bag, and dog, and found themselves on the sidewalk of a 
crowded street. 

This way,” whispered Lyon Berners to his wife, as he 
turned into a by-street. “ Sybil,” he continued, when they 
felt themselves comparatively alone in the less thronged 
thoroughfare — “ Sybil, if we are to drop our disguises here, 
we must do so before we enter any inn, because w^e should 
have no opportunity afterwards, without detection.” 

And relieving her of the carpet bag and carrj’ing that as 
W’ell as the knapsack, he led her by a long walk to the woods 
on the outskirts of the city, where, by the side of a clear 
stream, they washed the dye from their faces and hands, and 
then changed their upper garments. Their knapsack con- 
tained every requisite for a decent toilet ; and so, in some- 
thing less than half an hour, they had transformed them- 
selves back again from plain, respectable darkies, to plain, 
respectable whites; and ^‘Caesar” and “Dinah” became 
in their next phase, the Beverend Mr. and Mrs. Martin. 
The only thing that could not be changed was the color of 
Lyon’s hair, wliich, having been dyed black, must remain 
black until time and growth should restore its natural color. 

As the Beverend Mr. and Mrs. Martin, they walked back 
to the city. At the first hack stand “ Mr. Martin ” called 
a carriage, placed “ Mrs. Martin,” with her pet dog, knap- 
sack, and carpet bag in it, entered and took a seat by her 
side, and told the hackman to drive to the best hotel. 

“ For it is our policy now to go boldly to the best,” he 
said, as he took Sybil’s hands, cold from her outdoor toilet, 
into his and tried to warm tlienu 


THE SECOND FLIGHT. 


117 


They were driven to the “ Calvert House,” where Mr. 
Berners registered their names as the Reverend Isaiah 
Martin and wife ; and where they were received with the 
respect due to the cloth, and shown to a handsome room on 
the first floor, which was cheerfully lighted by a chandelier, 
and warmed by a bright coal fire in the grate. 

Here poor Sj^bil enjoyed the first real repose she had seen 
since the commencement of her flight. Here Lyon ordered 
a comfortable and even luxurious supper j and the fugitive 
pair supped together in peace and safety. 

Although it was late when the table was cleared, Lyon 
felt that no time was to be lost before he should make in- 
quiries about the outward bound ships. So having ordered 
the morning and evening papers to be brought to their room, 
he first examined the shipping advertisements, and finding 
that the “Energy,” Captain Strong, was to sail for Havre 
on the next day but one, taking passengers as well as freight, 
he put on his hat, and leaving Sybil to amuse herself with 
the newspapers during his absence, he left the hotel to see 
the shipping agent. 

A strange sense of peace and safety had fallen upon 
Sybil, and she sat there before her cheerfd fire reading the 
news of the daj^, and occasionally contrasting her situation 
now, in the finest room of a large and crowded hotel, with 
her position but a few days before in the Robbers’ Cave. 
The time passed pleasantly enough until the return of Mr. 
Berners. 

He entered very cheerfully, telling her that he had en- 
gaged a cabin passage in the “ Energ}^” which would sail 
on the day after to-morrow, and that they must be on board 
the next afternoon. 

Sybil was delighted to hear this. Visions of perfect 
freedom, and of foreign travel with her beloved Lyon, flitted 
before her imagination. 

They talked over their plans for the next day, and then 
retired to bed, and slept well until the next morning. 


118 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


They arose and breakfasted early. The morning was fine 
and clear, and they wrapped themselves in their outer gar- 
ments, and started with the intention of going out to pur- 
chase a couple of trunks and other necessaries for their long 
voyage. 

Lyon was cheerful ; Sybil was even ga}’ ; both were full 
of bright anticipations for the future. For were they not 
flying toward freedom ? 

They had reached the great lower halls of the hotel, when 
they were stopped by a sound of altercation in the office, 
which was on their right hand as they went out. 

I tell j^ou,” said the clerk of the house, in an angry 
voice, “ that there is no one of that name here ! ’’ 

“And I tell 3’ou there is / And there she is now ! I’d 
know her among ten thousand ! ” exclaimed a harsh, rude- 
looking man, who the next instant came out of the oflBce 
and confronted Sybil, saying roughly : 

“ I know you, madam ! You’re my prisoner. Madam 
Berners ! And you’ll not do 7 ne, I reckon, as 3'ou did Pur- 
ley ! I’m Jones ! And ’tan’t one murder you’ve got to 
answer for now, but half a dozen ! ” 

And without a word of warning, he snapped a pair of 
handcuff's upon the lady’s delicate w^rists. 

“Villain ! ” thundered Sybil’s husband, as with a sweep 
of his strong arm he felled the ruflSan to the floor. 

It w’as but a w'ord and a blow, “ and the blow came first.” 

He caught his half-fainting wife to his bosom, and strove 
to free her from those insulting bracelets ; but he could not 
wrench them off without wounding and bruising her tender 
flesh. 

Meanwhile the fallen officer sprung to his feet, and called 
upon all good citizens to help him execute his warrant. 

A crowd collected then. A riot ensued. Lyon Berners, 
holding his poor young wife to his bosom, vainly, madly, 
desperately defended her against all comers, dealing frantic 


THE SECOND FLIGHT. 


119 


blows with his single right arm on all sides. Of course, for 
the time being, he was insane. 

“Knock him down! Brain him! hut don’t hurt the 
w^oman,” shouted some one in the crowd. And some other 
one, armed with a heavy iron poker, dealt him a crashing 
blow upon the bare head. And Sj^bil’s brave defender 
relaxed his protecting hold upon her form, fell broken, 
bleeding, perhaps dying at her feet. 

A piercing scream broke from her lips. She stooped to 
raise her husband, but was at that instant seized by the 
officer, and forced from the spot. 

“ Sliame ! shame ! ” cried a bystander. “Take the hand- 
cuffs off the poor woman, and let her look at her husband.” 

“Poor woman indeed!” exclaimed Jones, the officer, 
“she’s the biggest devil alive! Do you know what she ’s 
done ? Not only murdered a beautiful lady j but blown up 
a church and killed half a dozen men ! ” 

A shudder shook the crowd. Could this be true? A 
score of questions was put to Bailiff Jones. But he would 
not stop to answer any one of them. Calling his coadjutor 
Smith to help him, they each took an arm of Sybil and 
forced her from the scene. 

Faint, speechless, powerless under this sudden and awful 
accumulation of misery, the wretched jmung wife was torn 
from her djdng husband and thrust into a stage-coach, 
guarded by three other bailiffs, and immediately started on 
her return journey. 

liesistance was useless, lamentations were in vain. She 
sat dumb with a despair never before exceeded, scarcely ever 
before equalled in the case of any sufferer under the sun. 

There were no other passengers but the sheriff’s officers 
and their one prisoner. 

Of the first part of this terrible homeward journey there 
is but little to tell. They stopped at the appointed hours 
and stations to breakfast, dine, and sup, and to water and 


120 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


change the horses, but never to sleep. They travelled day 
and night; and as no other passei^ger joined them, it was 
probable that the sheriff’s officers had engaged all the seats 
for themselves and their important charge. 

During that whole horrible journey the hapless young 
wife neither ate, drank, slumbered, nor spoke ; all the facul- 
ties of mind and body, all the functions of nature, seemed 
to be suspended. 

It was on the night of the third day, and they were in 
the last stage of the journey. 

They were going slowly down that terrible mountain pass, 
leading to the village of Blackville. The road was even 
unusually difficult and dangerous, and the night was very 
dark, so that the coachman was driving slowly and care- 
fully, when suddenly the bits of the leaders were seized and 
the coach stopped. 

In some alarm the bailiffs thrust their heads out of the 
side windows to the right and left, to see what the obstacle 
might be. 

To their horror and amazement they found it surrounded 
by half a score of highwaymen, armed to the teeth. 


CHAPTER X. 

THE NIGHT ATTACK ON THE COACH. 

“ The sotind of hoof, the flash of steel, 

The robbers round her coming." 

The road robbers, by all that ’s devilish ! ” gasped Jones, 
falling back in his seat. 

“Good gracious!” cried Smith. 

And all the brave “ bum-baillies ” who had so gallantly 
bullied and brow-beaten Sybil and her sole defender, 
dropped panic-stricken, paralyzed by terror. 


NIGHT ATTACK ON THE COACH. 121 


“ Get out of this, you vermin ! ” ordered a stern voice at 
one of the windows. 

“ Ye — 3’e — yes, gentlemen,” faltered Jones. 

Ta — take, all we have, but spa — spa — spare our lives ! ” 
pleaded Smith. 

“ Well, well, get out of this, 5’ou miserable cowards ! 
Empt}’- 3’our pockets, and j’ou shall be safe ! It would be 
crueller than infanticide to slay such miserably helpless 
wretches!” laughed the same voice, which poor Sybil, as in 
a dream, recognized as belonging to Captain “ Iiiconiiu.” 

The trembling bailiffs descended from the coach and gave 
up their pocket-books and watches, and then submitted to 
be tied to trees. 

The coachman and the guard yielded to the same neces- 
sity. 

The horses were taken from the coach and appropriated 
to the use of the victors. 

And lastly, Sybil, who was rendered b}’’ despair indiffer- 
ent to her fate, was lifted from her seat by the strong arms 
of Moloch, who held her a moment in suspense, while he 
turned to his chief and inquired : 

“ Where now. Captain ? ” 

To the rendezvous ! And look that you treat the lady 
with due deference 1 ” 

“ Never you fear. Captain ! I ’m sober to-night ! ” an- 
swered the giant, as he threw the half-fainting form of the 
lady across his shoulders and strode up a narrow footpath 
loading through the mountain pass. 

Indifferent to fate, to life, to all things, Sybil felt herself 
borne along in the firm embrace of her rude abductor. As 
in a dream sh.e heard his voice speaking to her: 

“ Now do n’t you be afeard, darlint ! AVe an’t none on us 
agwine to hurt a hair o’ your head, or to let anybody else do 
it! Bless 3’our purty face, if we did n’t carry you off you ’d 
spend this night and many more on ’em in the county jail ! 


122 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


and end by losing your liberty and your life for that which 
you never did ! But you ’s safe now ! And do n’t you go 
to mistrusting on us ’pon account o’ that night ! Why, 
Lord love ye! we was all drunk as dukes that night, else 
we never would a mislested you I Lord 1 if you ’d seen the 
lots of liquor we ’d took aboard, you would n’t wonder at 
nothing! But we’s sober now! And so you ’s safe! 
Where ’s your little dog ? Lord bless my life and soul how 
that little creetur did take hold o’ rdy throat, to be sure ! 
Where is she ? ” 

Sybil could not answer. Indeed, though she heard the 
voice, she scarcely comprehended the question. 

“What ! you won ’t speak to me, eh ? Well, that ’s nat- 
ural too, but precious hard, seeing as I risked my life to 
save your’n ; and mean you so well into the bargain,” con- 
tinued the ruffian, as he strode onward to a place where 
several horses were tied. 

He selected the strongest of the group, mounted and 
lifted the helpless form of the lady into a seat before him, 
and set off at full speed, clattering through the rugged 
mountain pass with a recklessness of life and limb, that at 
another time would have frightened his companion half out 
of her senses. 

But now, in her despair of life, there was even a hope in 
this mad career — the hope of a sudden death. 

But the gigantic ruffian knew himself, his horse, and his 
road, and so he carried his victim through that fearful pass 
in perfect safety. 

They reached a deep, narrow, secluded valley, in the 
midst of which stood an old red sandstone house, closely 
surrounded by trees, and only dimly to be seen in the 
clouded night sky. 

Here the robber rider slackened his pace. 

The deep silence that prevailed, the thick growth of leaf- 
less weeds and briars through which their horse had to 


% 

NIGHT ATTACK ON THE COACH. 123 

wade, all showed that this house had been long uninhabited 
and the grounds long uncultivated. 

Yet there was some one on guard ; for when Moloch rode 
up to the door and dismounted, and holding Sybil tightly 
clasped in his left arm, rapped three times three, with his 
right hand, the door was cautiously opened by a decrepit 
old man, who held a lighted taper in his withered fingers. 

“ Ho, Pluto ! who is here ? ” inquired Moloch, striding 
into the hall, and bearing Sybil in his arms. 

“ Ho one, sir, but the girls and the woman ; and they 
have just come,’’ answered the old man. 

“No one but the girls and the woman ! and they have 
just come! And no fire made, and no supper ready? 
And this h — 11 of an old house colder and damper than the 
cavern! Won’t the captain be leaping mad, that’s all! 
Come, bestir yourself, bestir yourself, and make a fire first 
of all. This lady is as cold as death ! Where is Tska ?” 

“ In this room, sir,” answered the old man, pushing open 
an old worm-eaten door that admitted them into a large 
old-fashioned oak-pannelled parlor, with a wide fireplace 
and a high corner cupboard, but without other furniture. 

On the hearth knelt Gentiliska, trying to coax a little 
smouldering fire of green wood into a blaze. 

“What the d — 1 is the use of puffing away at that? 
You ’d just as well try to set fire to a wet sponge,” impa- 
tiently exclaimed Moloch. 

And he went to one of the windows,, wrenched off a dry 
mouldering shutter, broke it to pieces with his bare hand, 
and piled it in among the green logs. Then from his 
pocket he took a flask of whiskey, poured a portion of it on 
the weak, red embers, and in an instant had the whole mass 
of fuel in a roaring blaze. 

Meanwhile Sybil, unable to stand, had sunk down upon 
the floor, where she remained only until Gentiliska saw her 
by the blaze of the fire. 



124 TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 

“You are as cold as ice ! ’’ said the kind-hearted girl tak- 
ing Sybil’s hands in her own, and trying to warm them. 
“ Come to the fire,” she continued, assisting the lady to rise, 
and drawing her towards the chimney. “Sit here,” she 
added, arranging her own red cloak as a seat. 

“Thanks,” murmured Sybil. “Thanks — you are very 
good to me.” 

“ Moloch, she is nearly dead ! Have you got any wine ? 
If you have, give it to me ! ” was the next request of the 
girl. 

The giant lumbered off to aheap of miscellaneous luggage 
that lay in one corner, and from it he rooted out a black 
bottle, which he brought and put in the hands of the girl, 
saying : 

“There! ha, ha, ha! there’s some of her own old port! 
We made a raid upon Black Hall buttery last night, on 
purpose to provide for her.” 

“ All right. Now a tin saucepan, and some sugar and 
spice, old Moloch ! and also, if possible,- a cup or tumbler,” 
said Gentiliska. 

The giant went back to the pile in the corner, and after 
a little search brought forth all the articles required by the 
girl. 

“ Now, good Moloch, go and do for old Hecate what you 
have done for me. Make her a fire, that she may have 
supper ready for the captain when he comes,” coaxed Gen- 
tiliska. 

“ Just so, Princess,” agreed the robber, who immediately 
confiscated another shutter, and carried it off into the adjoin- 
ing back room to kindle the kitchen fire. 

“ You were wrong to leave us ! You got into trouble 
immediately ! You would have been in worse by this time, 
if we had not rescued you ! Do n’t j^ou know, when the 
laws are down on you, your only safety is with the out- 
laws ? ” inquired Gentiliska, as soon as she found herself 
alone with her guest. 


NIGHT ATTACK ON THE COACH. 125 

“ I do n’t know. I do n’t care. It is all one to me now. 
I only wish to die. If it were not a sin, I would die by 
suicide,” answered Sybil with the dreary calmness of 
despair. 

‘ Die by suicide ! ’ Die by a fiddlestick’s end ! You to 
talk so ! And you not twenty years old yet I Bosh ! cut 
the law that persecutes you and come with us merry outlaws 
who protect you. And -whatever you do, do n’t run away 
from us again ! You got us into awful trouble and danger 
and loss when you ran away the last time j did you know 
it?” 

^‘No,” sighed Sybil, wearily. 

“Well, then, you did; and I’ll tell you how it all hap- 
pened : the secret of your abode at Pendleton Park was 
known to too many people. It could n’t possibly be kept 
forever by all. It is a wonder that it was kept so long, by 
an 3 ^ They kept it only until they thought you were safe 
from pursuit and arrest. Then some of Captain Pendleton’s 
people — it is not known whom — let it leak out until it got 
to the ears of the authorities, who set inquiries on foot ; and 
then the whole thing was discovered, and as usual misinter- 
preted and misrepresented. You got the credit of volun- 
tarily consorting with us, and of purposely blowing up the 
old Haunted Chapel. And the new warrants that were 
issued for your arrest charged you with that crime also.” 

“Good Heaven!” exclaimed Sybil, forgetting all her 
indifterence ; “ what will they not heap upon my head 
next ? I will not rest under this imputation 1 I will 
not.” 

“Neither would I, if I were you — that is, if I could help 
it,” said the girl, sarcastically. 

But Sybil sat with her thin hands clasped tightly together, 
her deathly white face rigid as marble, and her large, dila- 
ted eyes staring into the fire heedless of the strange girl’s 
irony. 


126 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


“But now I must tell you how all this hurt ns. In the 
first place, when your flight from the cavern was discovered, 
we felt sorry only on your account, because you ran into 
imminent danger of arrest. We had no idea then that your 
arrest would lead to the discovery of our retreat; but it did. 
When our detectives brought in the news of the warrants 
that were out against you, they also warned us that the au- 
thorities had the clue to our caverns, and that there was no 
time to be lost in making our escape.’’ 

With her hands still closely clasped together, with her 
pallid features still set as in death, and with her staring eyes 
still fixed upon the fire, Sybil sat, heedless of all that she 
heard. 

The girl continued her story. 

“We let no time be lost. We gathered up the most 
valuable and portable of our effects, and that same night 
evacuated our cavern and dispersed our band ; taking care 
to appoint a distant place of rendezvous. Satan watched 
the road, riding frequently to the way-side inns to try to 
discover the coach by which you w'ould be brought back. 
He w^as at Upton this evening, wdien the stage stopped to 
change horses. He recognized you, and immediately 
mounted, put spurs to his fast horse and rode as for life and 
death to, the rendezvous of his band, and got them into 
their saddles to intercept the stage-coach. He also gave 
orders that w^e should come on to this deserted house, which 
he had discovered in the course of his rides, and which he 
supposes will be a safe retreat for the present. That is all 
I have to tell you, and I reckon you know all the rest,” 
concluded Gentiliska. 

But still Sybil sat in the same attitude of deep despair, 
regardless of all that was said to her. 

While Gentiliska’s tongue was running, her hands were 
also. busy. She had prepared a cordial of spiced and sweet- 
ened port wine, and had set it in a saucepan over the fire to 


NIGHT ATTACK ON THE COACH. 127 

heat. And now she poured it out into a silver mug and 
handed it to Sybil, saying: 

“ Come, drink : this will warm and strengthen 3 ’ou. Yoo. 
look like death, but you must not die 3 'et. You must drink, 
and live.” 

Yes, I must live !” said Sybil. “ I must live to throw 
off this horrible imputation from the fame of my father’s 
daughter.” 

And she took the goblet and drank the cordial. 

And soon a new expression passed into her face j the 
fixed despair rose into a settled determination, a firm, active 
resolution. 

“ You look as if you were going to do something. What 
is it ? ” inquired Gentiliska. 

“ I am going to give myself up ! I am guiltless, and I 
will not longer act the part of a guilty person ! ” said Sybil, 
firmly. 

“ Your misfortunes have turned your head. You are as 
mad as a March hare ! ” exclaimed Gentiliska, in conster- 
nation. 

Ko, I am not mad. On the contrary, it seems to me 
that I have been mad, or I never could have borne the fugi- 
tive life that I have been leading for the last two months 1 
I will bear it no longer. I will give mj^self up to trial, 
come what will of it. I would even rather die a guiltless 
death than lead an outlaw’s life ! I will give m 3 ^self up!” 

“After all the pains we have taken, and risks we have 
run, to rescue you ? ” exclaimed Gentiliska, in dismay. 

“ Yes, after all that ! And yet I thank you all the same. 
I thank 3 mu all, that you have set me at liberty, and by so 
doing have given me the opportunity of voluntarily deliver- 
ing myself up.” 

“ Just as if Captain Inconnu would let you do it. I tell 
you he has his own reasons for saving your life,” angrily 
retorted the girl. 


128 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


And I have my reasons for risking my life upon 
the bare chance of rescuing my good name,” said Sybil, 
firmly ; “ and your captain would scarcely detain me here 
as a captive, against my will,” she added, smiling strangely. 

Well, may be he would, and may be he would n’t ! but 
here he comes, and you can ask him,” said the girl, as the 
galloping of a horse’s feet was heard in the front yard. 

A moment passed, and then the robber chief, with three 
or four of his men, entered the room, bringing with them 
the mail bags and other booty taken from the stage-coacli. 

“ Good-evening, Mrs. Berners ! You are welcome back 
among your devoted slaves!” was the greeting of Captain 
Inconnu, as half in deference, half in mockery, he raised 
his cap and bowed low before the lady. 

For an instant Sj'bil was dumb before the speaker, but 
she soon recovered her self-possession and said : 

“ I ought to thank you for your gallantry in rescuing me 
from the custody of those rude men ; especially as the free- 
dom 3"Ou have given me affords me the opportunity of vol- 
untarily doing that which I should not like to be forced into 
doing.” 

Captain Inconnu bowed in silence, and in some perplex- 
ity, and then he said ; 

“ I am not sure that I understand you, madam, as to 
what you would do.” 

I would go freely before a court of justice, instead of 
being forced thither,” explained Sybil. 

“ I trust j'ou would never commit such a suicidal act ! ” 
exclaimed the captain, in consternation. 

“Yes, I would, and I will. I care nothing for my life ! 
I have lost all that makes life worth the living ! All is 
gone but my true honor — for its mere semblance has gone 
with everything else. I w’ould preserve that true honor 1 
I would place myself on trial, and trust in my innocence, 
and in the help of Providence,” said Sybil, speaking with a 
stoical firmness wonderful to see in one so young. 


NIGHT ATTACK ON THE COACH. 129 

Captain Inconnu, who had listened in silence, with his 
eyes fixed upon the ground, now lifted them to her face and 
replied : 

Sleep on this resolution before you act, Mrs. Berners ; 
and to-morrow w'e will talk further on this subject.” 

“ I must of necessity sleep on it before acting,” said 
Sybil, with a dreary smile, since nothing can be done to- 
night; but also I must tell you that nothing can change 
my resolution.” 

‘‘ Thus let it stand over until to-morrow,” replied the cap- 
tain. Then with a total change of tone and manner, he 
turned to Gentiliska and said : 

Now let us have supper, my little princess, and after- 
wards we will open the mail bags and see what they have 
brought us.” 

Gentiliska clapped her hands together, to summon the 
old woman of the band, who quickly made her appearance 
at the door. 

“ Supper immediately, Hecate ! ” said the girl. 

The woman nodded and withdrew. And in a few mo- 
ments she reappeared and summoned them in to the 
evening meal. 

The supper was served in the rudest possible fashion. 
There was neither table nor chairs. A fine table-cloth not 
too clean was spread upon the floor, and on it were arranged 
a few plain articles of food such as could be quickly pre- 
pared. 

“ You will excuse our imperfect housekeeping, I hope, 
Mrs. Berners. The fact is we have just moved in, and 
have not got quite comfortably settled j^et,” laughed the 
captain as he folded his own cloak as a seat for Sybil, and 
led her up and placed her on it, and sat himself down by 
her side. 

Other members of the band joined them at the meal, 
and Captain Inconnu and Gentiliska did the honors. 

S 


130 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Fortunately there was nothing stronger than wine set 
before the men, and not much of that ; and upon those who 
had been accustomed to strong brandy, and a great deal of 
it, this lighter beverage had but little effect. So, to Sybil’s 
great relief, she perceived that they continued sober to the 
end of their repast. 

“ Come in now, and let us take a look at the contents of 
the mail bags ! That may afford some amusement to our 
lady guest,” said Captain Inconnu, when they all arose from 
the supper. 

They passed into the front parlor, where the robber chief 
with his own hands opened the mail bags, and turning them 
up side down, emptied all their contents in a heap in the 
middle of the floor. 

The robbers came and sat down around the pile, and 
began to seize and tear open the letters. 

“ Hallo, there, my men ! When you open a letter with 
money in it, hand over the money to Gentiliska ; she will 
gather and keep it all until we have gone entirely through 
this pile, and then we will divide it equitably, if not 
equally, among you,” commanded the captain as he himself 
took a seat in the circle and began to assist in “ distributing 
the mail.” He also set the example of scrupulously hand- 
ing over the money he found in the letters he opened, to 
the keeping of Gentiliska, who collected it all in a little 
pile on her lap. 

Some of the letters he read aloud to the company for their 
amusement, such, for instance, as sentimental letters from 
city swains to their country sweethearts, begging letters 
from boys at college to their parents and guardians on the 
plantations, and dunning letters from metropolitan mer- 
chants to their provincial customers. Of these last men- 
tioned, the captain said : 

“ Look sharp, boys ! Here are the Hew Year’s bills 
coming down! They won’t be answered b^ return maii 


NIGHT ATTACK ON THE COACH. 131 


this time ; but they will be sent down again. After which 
remittances will begin to go up ! We must keep a bright 
look-out for the up coaches about New Year’s time ! And 
we shall bag some neat thousands!” 

“ If we are not all bagged ourselves before that ! ” growled 
Moloch. 

“ Oh, raven ! hush your croaking ! If we should listen 
to it long, we would never venture upon an enterprise of 
spirit! Halloa, what’s this? Something that concerns 
you, Mrs. Berners ! ” exclaimed the captain, breaking off 
his discourse with his band and turning to Sybil, who was 
sitting quietly apart ; and he held in his hand an open 
letter, from whicli he had taken a bright ribbon. 

“ Something that concerns me ! ” echoed poor Sybil, as a 
wild, irrational hope that the letter might contain news of 
her husband flashed across the dark despair of her soul. 

Yes,” answered the captain. This letter is from Miss 
Beatrix Pendleton to her brother. It acknowledges the 
safe receipt of her valuable India shawl, and sends love and 
thanks to yow for recovering it from us and dispatching it 
to her. Moreover she sends kind remembrances and this 
ga}’’ ribbon to some old nurse of the name of Margy ! 
Here is the letter! Would you like to read it?” he 
laughingl}’’ inquired, as he oftered it to Sj^bil. 

“No!” she answered, in strongly marked disapproba- 
tion ; “ that letter is a private one ! not intended for my 
perusal, nor for yours ! ” 

“ No ? And 3’et you see I read it ! Here Gentilly I 
here is a * 

s 

“ ‘ Bit of bright ribbon 
To bind up your bonny black hair I ’ ” 

laughed the captain, tossing the gay remnant to the girl, 
who caught it up and immediately twisted it in coquettishly 
among her ebon locks. 

It occupied the band for nearly an hour to open and 


132 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


examine all the letters. When they had done so, and had 
taken everything that was valuable out of them, they 
gatliered the whole refuse mass of papers together, and 
ruthlessly committed them to the flames. 

Then they divided the money among themselves, the 
captain and his men having each an equal, instead of a 
graduated share. 

“ And now,” said Captain Inconnu, we will bid each 
other good-night, and try to get some rest. Princess, take 
our guest up-stairs to the large room immediately over this. 
She, 3’ou, and the other women will oocupy that room to- 
night. Hecate has had ray orders to that effect, and I 
hope you will find that she has made the place as comfort- 
able as circumstances will permit. 

And so saying, he stuck a stump of a tallow candle in a 
scooped-out turnip and handed it to Gentiliska, and 
motioned her to conduct their guest from the room. 

Sybil verj" willingly" left the companj" of the robbers, and 
followed her hostess to the chamber above. 

It was a large bare room, warmed and lighted b^^ a fine 
wood fire, and furnished only with a few pallets made of 
dried leaves, with blankets thrown over them. 

The old crone called Hecate and the pale girl nicknamed 
Proserpine stood basking before the blaze of the fire. 

Sybil felt pleased to know that she might sleep in peace 
that night, protected by the presence of other women. 

“ Tliis is the new lad^^’s bed, this best one in the corner 
here by the fire,” old Hecate explained, pointing to a pallet 
that, in addition to its dried leaves and warm blankets, was 
graced with clean sheets and pillow-cases. 

Sybil. thanked the old woman for her favor; and being 
very weary, took off her upper garments and laid down to 
rest, committed herself to the kind care of Heaven, and 
soon sank into a deep sleep, that lasted until morning. 


RAPHAEL. 


138 


CHAPTER XL 

RAPHAEL. 

I might call him 

Something divine, for nothing natural 
I ever saw so noble. — Shakespeake. 

Whex she woke up, the sun was streaming in at the 
unshaded windows, and its blaze of light she saw that 
two of the women had left the room, and left no one wdth 
her except Gentiliska. 

The girl was up, and was making what shift she could to 
wash her face with the aid of a tin basin, a stone ewer, and 
a crash towel, all of wdiich, for want of a wash-stand, w’ere 
placed upon the bare floor. 

When she liad finished washing, she carefully emptied the 
contents of tlie basin out of the window, and refilled it 
again with fresh water for Sybil. Then, happening to turn 
around, she discovered that her guest was awake. 

You rested well,’’ she said, with a smile. 

Yes, for I was worn out. This is the first night in four 
that I have laid down, and the second night in eight,” an- 
swered Sybil. 

“ My gracious goodness ! How could you stand it ? 
You cannot be rested yet. You had better lie a bed 
longer.” 

“ Ho, I would rather get up,” said Sybil, rising. 

As on a former occasion, the girl attended the lady at her 
rude toilet, rendering the assistance of a dressing maid. 

Just before they left the room, Gentiliska, chancing to 
look out of the window, uttered an exclamation of surprise 
and delight. 

What is it?” inquired Sybil. 

“ The captain’s son ! Oh I a beautiful boy, Mrs. Berners ! 
An angel among devils ! He has been gone so long ! And 


134 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


now he has unexpectedly come back again. Look, Mrs. 
Berners ! Oh ! how I do wish somebody would deliver this 
boy from this band ! would save this pure young soul 
alive! ” exclaimed Gentiliska, with more feeling than S^bil 
had ever seen her display. 

Following the glance of the girl’s eye, the lady looked 
from the window. 

Prepared as she had been by Gentiliska’s praise to be- 
liold a boy of rare beauty, she was really startled by the 
angelic loveliness of the lad before her. 

The charm was not alone in the soft bright golden hair 
that shone like a halo around the fair, open forehead, nor in 
the straight brown eye-brows, nor the clear blue eyes, nor 
the sweet serious mouth, nor in the delicate blooming com- 
plexion ; it was also in the expression of earnest candor and 
trusting love that beamed from every feature of that beau- 
tiful face. 

“ Yes, indeed ; he looks like a seraph. What is his 
name ? ” inquired Sjbil, in a burst of admiration. 

It is Eaphael.” 

“‘Eaphaell’ an appropriate name. So might have 
looked the child-artist Eaphael, in his brightest daj's on 
earth. So maj’’ seem the love-angel Raphael, to those who 
see him in their dreams,” said Sybil, gazing, as if spell- 
bound, on the beaut}’ of the boy. 

“ There, he has passed in. How let us go dowm to break- 
fast, where we shall meet the little darling again. But 
look here ! let me give you one warning ; take no notice of 
that child in his father’s presence. Captain Inconnu is in- 
tensely jealous of his beautiful boy, and visits that black 
passion upon the poor lad’s head,” said Gentiliska, as they 
went below. 

'•'Jealous of a boy of fourteen ? (and the lad cannot be 
more ;) what a wretch ! ” cried Sybil, in honest indignation, 
as she followed her conductress down stairs. 


RAPHAEL. 


135 


Breakfast was served in the back parlor, in the same rude 
style as the supper of the night before had been. 

As Sybil and Gentiliska entered the room, the captain left 
a group of men among whom he had been standing, came 
forward, bade the lady good-morning, took her hand and led 
her to a seat — not at the table, but at the table-cloth, which, 
lacking a board, was laid as on the evening previous, upon 
the bare floor. The captain seated himself beside his guest, 
and the other members of the band took their places at the 
meal. 

Sybil noticed that young Baphael was among them. 
But Captain Inconnu vouchsafed neither word nor glance to 
his soil, and no other one presumed to present him to the 
lady guest. 

Yet at that breakfast Sybil made a most innocent con- 
quest. The boy, who had seen very few young girls in his 
hfe, and had never seen so beautiful a woman as Sybil, at 
first sight fell purely in love with her, for the sake of whose 
sweet face he felt he could die a thousand deaths, without 
ever even dreaming of such a reward as to be permitted to 
kiss her hand ! 

What woman does not know at once when a life has been 
silently laid at her feet? Sybil surely knew and felt that 
this fair boy’s heart and soul were hers for life or death. 

He loved her with that love which was his doom.’’ 

And what beautiful woman of twenty years old, is not 
careless and cruel in her dealings with her boy worshipper 
of fourteen ? She may perceive, but she never appreciates 
the pure devotion. 

Sybil, the most magnanimous among women, was per- 
fectly incapable of any other selfish act, under any other 
circumstances ; but yet she coolly resolved to improve her 
power over this fair boy, and to use his devotion for her own 
purpose of escaping from the band and delivering herself 
up to the authorities — never once thinking of the pain and 
peril she would bring upon her young votary. 


136 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


But she was very cautious in her conduct towards him. 
She kept in mind the warning that had been given her by 
Gentiliska, and took care to bestow neither word nor look 
upon the lad, while in the company of Captain Inconnu. 

When breakfast was over, all the band dispersed about 
their various business, with the exception of Kaphael, who, 
with pencil and portfolio, strolled about the forsaken 
grounds, or sat down on fragments of rock to sketch pictur- 
esque points in the scenery, and Captain Inconnu, who in- 
tercepted Sybil as she was going to her room and requested 
a few moments’ private conversation with her. 

Sybil thought it the best policy to grant the Captain’s 
request. So she permitted him to lead her into the unfur- 
nished front parlor, where for the want of a chair or a sofa, 
he put her in the low window seat. 

I had the honor of telling you yesterday, madam, that 
if you should be pleased to do so, we would talk further, 
to-day, upon the subject of your return to the world,” 
began the rather too courteous captain. 

Sybil bowed in silence. 

“ I am here now, at your orders, for that purpose.” 

Again Sybil bent her head in acknowledgment of this 
politeness. 

^^And first I would inquire,” said the captain, with a 
singular smile, whether, after having slept upon the ques- 
tion, as I advised you to do, you are still in the same 
mind ? ” 

^‘Not exactly,” replied Sybil, truthfully but evasively; 
for though she was still firmly resolved to give herself up 
to justice, she had changed her plan of proceeding.” 

Ah ! ” commented the captain, with an expression that 
proved how much he had mistaken the lady’s meaning — 
“ ah ! I thought a night’s repose and a morning’s cool 
reflection would bring you to a more rational consideration 
of the question. 


137 


/ 

RAPHAEL. 

Sybil answered his smile, but left him in bis error, and 
presently said to him : 

“ Captain, I have a question to ask you/^ 

“ Proceed, madam ! I am entirely at your commands,’’ 
said the captain with a bow. 

“ Supposing that 1 had remained in the same mind that 
I was ill yesterday, and that I still persisted in my purpose 
of leaving your band, and giving myself up to take my 
trial, would you have assisted me, or would you have hin- 
dered me ? ” 

“ Mrs. Berners, your purpose was a suicidal one ! Your 
question means simply this : If you were bent upon self- 
destruction, would I help you or hinder you in your deter- 
mination ? Of course there can be but one answer to such a 
question. I should employ every power of my mind and 
body to prevent you from destroying yourself.” 

That was all Sybil wanted to know. She felt now that 
her only hope was in the boy. 

Smilingly she arose and excused herself to the captain, 
who soon after left the room. 

But not until she knew that he had mounted his horse 
and ridden away from the house, did hlrs. Berners begin to 
put her plan in practice. 

She was playing a desperate game, and she knew it. 
The heaviest stake was that fair boy’s fate. 

She knew that the robber captain would never permit her 
to take what he chose to term the “ suicidal ” step of deliv- 
ering herself up to justice. She therefore knew that she 
must act without his knowledge, as well as without his help. 

But she did not know her present localitj^, or even its 
bearings in relation to the county seat, Blackville ; and 
therefore, before she could , set out to seek that place, she 
must enlist the sympathies and services of some one who 
would be able to guide her to that town. 

There was no one to be found for such a purpose but 


138 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Raphael, the captain^s son, and her own adorer. Regard- 
less of all consequences to him, since it was to save her own 
honor, she resolved to enlist the boy. 

And to effect her purpose, she felt that she must begin at 
once. So she walked out upon the neglected and briar- 
grown grounds, and strolled around until, “ accidently on 
purpose,” she came upon the boy as he sat sketching. He 
started up, confused and blushing, and stood with downcast 
eyes, before the goddess of his secret idolatry. 

Please take your seat again, and I will sit beside you,” 
said Sybil, in a gentle tone. 

Raphael was a very perfect little gentleman, and so he 
bowed and remained uncovered and standing, until Sj-bil 
took her seat. Then, with another bow, he placed himself 
beside her. 

“ You have been sketching. Will you permit me to look 
at your sketches ? ” inquired the lady. 

With a deferential bend of the head, the boy placed his 
specimens in her hand. 

They were reallj’’ very fine, and Sybil could praise them 
with sincerity as well as with excess. 

You are an enthusiast in art,” she said. 

Until to-day” replied Raphael, with a meaning glance. 

Until to-day, my one sole aspiration in life was to become 
an artist-painter ! ” 

And why until to-day? How has to-day changed your 
purpose ? ” softly inquired Sj^bil. 

The boy dropped his eyes, blushed, and shivered, and at 
length replied : 

“ Because to-day I have a loftier aspiration ! ” 

“ A loftier aspiration than for excellence in art there can- 
not be,” said Sybil, gravely. 

The lad could not and did not contradict her. But she 
understood as well as if he had explained, that his “loftier 
aspiration ” was to serve and to please herself. 


RAPHAEL. 


139 


She carefully examined his sketches, and praised his 
natural genius. And he listened to her commendations in 
breathless delight. 

At length he ventured to ask her : 

“ Do you, madam, who so much appreciate my poor 
attempts, do you also sketch from nature ? ” 

“ Ah, no,” answered Sybil, with a heavy sigh ; since 
my captivity here, I have lost all interest in my own work ! 
My onlj' aspiration is for freedom ! ” 

Kaphael looked up at the lady, amazement now taking 
the place of the deep deference of his expression. 

“ You seem surprised,” said Sybil, with a smile. 

“ I am very much astonished,” replied the lad. And his 
eloquent and ever-changing countenance said, as plainly as 
if he had spoken, knew the captain was an evil man, 
but I did not know that he was a base one.” 

“ Were 3'ou not aware that I am a captive of this band ? ” 
next inquired Sybil. 

Ko, madam ; I thought that you had been rescued by 
our men from the ofScers of the law. I thought that you 
were in refuge with us, from a false and fatal charge.” 

‘‘ Your thoughts were partly correct. I was rescued from 
the bailiffs by Captain Inconnu’s band. And I do suffer 
under a false charge. But, Raphael, what think you ? Do 
you not think that a false charge should be bravely met, 
answered, and put down ? Would not you, if you were 
falsely charged with any criminal act, bravely go forward to 
answer it in your innocence, rather than run away from it 
as if 3’ou were guilty ? ” 

Oh, indeed I would ! ” answered the youth, earnestly, 
knew it. Your face assures me that you would 
neither commit a dishonorable act, nor rest one moment 
under a dishonoring charge.” 

The lad thrilled and glowed under the lovely lady^s 
praise, and felt that he must do all he could to merit it. He 


140 TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 

could find no words good enough to reply to her, hut he 
lifted his cap and bowed deeply. 

“ You understand me, Raphael ! But I will confide still 
further in you. I will tell jmu that when that terrible 
tragedy was enacted at Black Hall, and I was so deeply 
compromised by circumstances in the crime, I wished to 
stay and face out the false charge ; but I yielded to the 
persuasions of those who loved me more than life,, and 
sometimes I think more than honor ! And I fled with my 
husband. Since that first flight, Raphael, I have led the 
hiding and hunted life of an outlaw and a criminal ! 
Raphael, my cheeks burn when I think of it ! Raphael, I 
am a Berners ! I can live this life no longer ! Come what 
will of it, I wish to give mj'self up to justice ! Better to 
die a martyr’s death than live an outlaw’s life ! ” 

“ Oh, madam — ! ” 

It was all the boy could bring out in words. But ho 
clasped his hands, and gazed on her with an infinite com- 
passion, deference, and devotion in his clear, candid, earnest 
blue eyes. 

Sybil felt that she had gone a step too far in talking of 
her martyr’s death ” to this sensitive young soul. So she 
hastened to add : 

“ But I have no fear of such a fatal consummation. The 
charge against me is so preposterous that, on being fairly 
met, it must disappear. And now, my young friend, I 
must tell you that I do thank Captain Inconnu and his men 
for rescuing me from the bailiffs, since it prevented me from 
suffering the ignominy of being forced to go to trial, and 
will give me the opportunity of going b}" my own free will. 
But I do not thank them for detaining me here to the detri- 
ment of my honor, when I wish to secure that honor by 
frankly giving myself up to justice. 1 am sure you com- 
prehend me, Raphael ? ” 

I do, madam ; but still I cannot conceive why the cap- 
tain should oppose your wish to go to trial.” 

; 


RAPHAEL. 


141 


It is enough that he does oppose it,^^ replied Sybil, who 
could not tell this lad that his father, being the real criminal, 
W’as unwilling that she should suffer for his crime. 

^‘You are certain, madam, that he would do so?’^ in- 
quired the boy dubiousl3^ 

“ I am quite certain j for I put the question to him this 
morning.’^ 

Lady, what would you like to do first ? ” 
y To escape from this place, go to Blackville, give myself 
up to the judge, and demand to be cleared from this foul 
charge by a public trial.” 

^ But are you sure that such a trial would result in your 
complete vindication, and restoration to your home and hap- 
piness ? ” 

As sure as innocence can be of acquittal ! ” 

The boy suddenly got up and knelt at her feet. 

“ Lady, what would you have me to do ? Command me, 
for life or for death.” 

‘‘ Thanks, dear jmung friend, you are a true knight.” 
*‘But what would you have me to do? ” 

“ Help me to escape from this place, escort me to Black- 
ville, and attend me to the judge’s house.” 

“ I w’ill do so ! When shall we start ? ” 

Let me see — how far is Blackville from this place ? ” 

“ About five miles.” 

“ And how is the road ? ” 

“ As bad as a road can be.” 

Could we reach the village on foot 
“ Better on foot than in a carriage, or on horseback; be- 
cause the foot way is shorter. By the road it is five miles ; 
by a foot-path that I know, which is almost a bee-line, it is 
not more than half that distance.” 

We will go on foot, then,” said Sybil, rising. 

“When? ” inquired the lad, following her example. 

“ Now. We will set out at once I No one notices our 


142 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


position now. If we were to return to the house, we might 
be observed and watched.^' 

“ I am ready, said the boy, closing his portfolio, and 
hiding it under a flat piece of rock, where he thought it 
would be equally safe from trespassers and from the ele- 
ments. 

“ Let us go,” said Sybil. 

“ This way then, madam,” replied the lad, leading the 
way to the woods. 

I have an(5ther reason for haste,” Sybil explained as they 
went on. ^‘1 know that the court is now in session at 
Blackville, and that the judge has rooms at the hotel. I 
know also that the court takes a recess at one o’clock. It is 
now eleven ; if we make moderate haste, we can reach the 
village in time to find the judge and secure an immediate 
interview. Do you not think so ? ” 

Oh yes, madam, certainly.” 

Does this path become more difficult as we descend ? ” 
inquired Sybil, as they threaded their way along an obscure, 
disused foot-path, leading down the narrow thickly wooded 
valley. 

“ Oh, no, madam, not more difficult, but much less so. It 
is a very, very gradual descent down to the outlet of the 
valley. By the way, did you ever observe, Mrs. Berners, 
how much all these long, narrow, tortuous vales between the 
spurs of the mountains, and leading down to the great val- 
ley, resemble the beds of water-courses emptying into some 
great river?” inquired the boy artist, looking with interest 
into the face of his companion. 

“ Oh yes, and many geologists declare them to have been 
really such,” replied Sybil. 

In such discourse as this, they beguiled the hour and a 
half that they spent in walking down this hidden valley to 
its opening near the ferry-house, on the Black river, oppo- 
site to Blackville. 


RAPHAEL. 


143 


Here, while waiting for the boat, which was on the other 
side, Sybil drew her thick black veil closely over her face, 
and whispered to her companion : 

“ I would not, upon any account, he recognized until I get 
before the judge. So I will keep my face covered, and my 
lips closed. You must make all the necessary inquiries, and 
do all the talking.” 

I will do anything on earth to serve you, lady,” replied 
the lad, lifting his hat. 

“ And now here it comes,” whispered Sybil, as the ferry- 
boat touched the shore. 

He handed her in, and placed her on a comfortable seat. 

After that Sybil never removed her veil or opened her 
lips. But the boy talked a little with the ferry-man until 
they reached the opposite shore. 

They landed, and went immediately up to the hotel. 

“ Is Judge Buthven in ? ” inquired the lad. 

“ Yes, sir,” answered the waiter. 

“ Is he disengaged ? ” 

“ I will see, sir. He has just finished luncheon,” answered 
the man. 

Tell him that a lady wishes to speak to him on impor- 
tant business,” said the boy. 

The waiter left the room, and after an absence of five 
minutes returned to say that the judge would see the lady, 
and that he, the waiter, would show her up. 

‘‘ This may be my last hour of freedom in this world !” 
murmured Sj^bil to herself, as, preceded by the waiter and 
attended by her escort, she went up stairs. 

The door of a private parlor was thrown open, and Sybil 
Berners entered and stood before her judge. 


144 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


CHAPTER XII. 

A WISE AND GOOD OLD MAN. 

A just judsre ; by the craft of the law, 

Ne’er seduced from its purpose. — S outhet. 

The room was a private parlor, famished something like 
a lawyer’s office. 

In an ample cushioned chair, beside a large desk laden 
with books and papers, sat a venerable old gentleman of a 
portly form, fine features, fresh complexion, and long sil- 
very white hair. He was dressed in jet hlack cloth and 
snow-white linen. His whole appearance expressed great 
power, benevolence, and equanimity. 

This was Judge Joseph Ruthven, the learned jurist and 
eminent philanthropist, who had succeeded the lately de- 
ceased judge, on the bench of the criminal court. 

He arose, with a suave and stately courtesy, to receive 
his lady visitor. 

As the waiter withdrew and closed the door, Sybil ap- 
proached the judge, and lifted her veil. 

“ Sybil, my child ! Mrs. Berners ! ” he said, suppressing 
with his habitual self-control, the exclamations of astonish- 
ment that arose to his lips. 

He had been the life-long intimate friend of her father. 
He had known her from her birth, and in her childhood he 
had held her on his knee a hundred times. It was horrible 
to see her there before him, and to foresee what must follow. 
Who can blame him, if at that moment he wished her 
thousands of miles away from him, with the ocean rolling 
between them ? 

“ I have come, your honor, to give myself up to justice, 
trusting that justice indeed may be meeted out to me,” said 
Sybil, as she sank trembling into the chair that he placed 
for her. He was scarcely less agitated than herself. 


A WISE AND GOOD OLD MAN. 145 

I am guiltless of the crime with which I stand 
charged; and I can no longer bear the hiding and hunted 
life of a criminal ! I now freely offer myself for trial, come 
what will of it ! It is better to die a guiltless death than 
to live an outlawed life ! Sybil repeated, her flesh trem- 
bling, but her spirit firm. 

Still the judge did not speak, but gazed on her with infi- 
nite compassion. 

“ It is a painful o^ce, I know. Judge Buthven,’’ said 
Sj'bil, her eyes filling and her lip quivering, “ a painful 
office, to consign your old friend’s child to a prison, and a 
more trying duty may follow ; but there is no help for it, 
you know.” 

My poor child ! my poor child ! ” 

These words almost unconsciously escaped the lips of the 
judge, as he laid his hand upon her head. 

You are sorry for me,” said Sybil. 

“ From the bottom of my heart.” 

And you believe me guiltless ? Oh, if you can say 
that, 3mu will give me so much strength and comfort,” she 
pleaded. 

How could he answer her? What could he say to her? 
He would have given much to be able to reply that he fully 
believed her to be guiltless. 

But, though he had known her intimately, from her in- 
fancy up, and saw her standing there looking him frankly 
and honestly in the face and declaring her innocence, and 
challenging a trial, and pleading for his trust in her, he 
could not tell whether she were guilty or innocent. 

He could not forget the fierce passions and fearful deeds 
of her race ; nor hide from hjs judgment the probability 
that this girl, inheriting the fiery temper of her fathers, 
and driven to desperation b}’’ jealousy, might, in a moment 
of frenzy, have slain her rival. Thus poor Sybil was an 
9 


146 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


instance of that natural law by which children suffer for the 
sins of their fathers. 

While the Judge dropped his venerable head upon his 
chest in sorrowful thought, Sybil waited for his answer ; 
and the longer it was withheld, the more impatient slie be- 
came to have it. 

“ You surely do not believe me guilty, then ? ” she 
pleaded, clasping her hands and trying to catch and meet 
his eyes as he raised his head. 

“ My child, whatever I may or may not believe, I must 
express no opinion here, or to you,” he answered, eva- 
sively. 

Oh ! I suppose not ; for you are to be my judge and 
preside at my trial, and so it would never do for you to give 
an opinion,” said Sybil with a sad smile, as, woman-like, 
she jumped to this conclusion. 

The judge committed himself by no direct reply to her 
words, but said : 

“ I trust in Heaven, my child, that all will be well ! ”■ 

“ But, Judge Buthven, although you may not be able to 
express an opinion as to my innocence or guilt, yet I ear- 
nestly wish that you may hold one — that you may believe 
me innocent ; and so — please look into my eyes ! ” 

The old man, who had been rather shunning her glance, 
now raised his head and met the honest gaze that was seek- 
ing his. 

“Judge Ruthven,” she re-commenced, “although the 
men and women of my line have been cursed with fierce 
and cruel tempers, and have some of them done ruthless 
and fearful deeds, yet not one of them was ever debased 
with a false and lying tongue, not one of them ever stooped 
to den}’’ his or her deed to avert the worst consequences 
that might befall. And, J udge Ruthven, if in my rage I 
had slain my rival, if I had been bad enough to do that 
deed, I should have been brave enough to avow it ! I have 


A WISE AND GOOD OLD MAN. 147 


never stained my hands with blood, and never sullied my 
lips with falsehood, and so, when I tell you that I am guilt- 
less of the death of Rosa Blondelle, Judge E-uthven, I call 
upon you to believe me ! ” 

Her eyes were fixed on his, and through them poured 
her spirit’s strength and purity and truth, inspiring his soul 
with full faith in her. 

He arose from his seat, his fine old face tremulous, yet 
beaming with emotion. 

^‘Give me your hands, my child! I do believe you — I 
believe you ! ” he fervently exclaimed, taking and pressing 
her hands. 

“ Thank Heaven ! How I can bear the rest ! ” earnestly 
answered Sybil, bending her head. “And now. Judge 
Ruthven ! do your duty ! The quicker it is done and over, 
the better for us both ! ” 

“ Patience, patience, my child ! I have now to return at 
once into the court to preside at a trial now in progress. 
In the mean while do you remain here. The necessary 
forms shall be gone through. I will send 3’’ou counsel. 
You must be committed for trial ; but you will immediately 
appl}’’ through your counsel to be admitted to bail. Remain 
here until 3’ou hear from me. All will be right for the 
present, and Heaven grant that all ma3’^ be well in the 
end ! ” 

“ Admitted to bail ! Hot have to go to prison ! Oh, thank 
you ! thank 3-ou I But I thought cases like mine were not 
bailable.” 

“ Tliat is somewhat at the discretion of the court. The 
fact that you have voluntaril3’^ come forward to give yourself 
up to trial, pleads loudl3" in your favor.” 

“ And I ma3’ go home ! Go home perhaps even to-night ! 
Oh ! home ! home ! home ! Oh I how blessed to be able to 
go home ! Oh, thank 3’ou ! thank you 1 thank you !” cried 
Sybil, bursting into tears of joy. 


148 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Compose yourself, my child. It is very possible that you 
may sleep at home to-night, and many nights. But there 
are certain legal forms that must be observed. I will see 
that they are properly attended to, and with as little distress 
to you as may be consistent with their due observance. 
The case that is now going on will close this afternoon, I 
think. But I will still keep the court open to as late an 
hour as possible, to wait for the application of your counsel 
for bail. Bemain here in peace until I send for you,” said 
the judge kindly, pressing the hand of Sybil as he with- 
drew. 

As soon as Judge Buthven had left the room, Sybil 
turned triumphantly towards her young escort, who, since 
his entrance, had remained modestly standing near the door, 
and she said : 

“ Dear Baphael ! did you hear that ? I am to go home 
and rest in peace until my trial comes on ! Oh, Baphael, 
what joy ! And, dear boy, take notice ! I did well to come 
here and give myself up ! and this blessed prospect of going 
home is the fruits of that W’ell-doing ! Mind, Baphael, 
always be sure to do well, and you will also be sure to fare 
well ! ” she concluded, mindful to give her young companion 
a lesson in morality. 

Oh, madam ! I am so glad of this, for your sake ! ” 
said the boy, earnestly. 

Thank you, Baphael ! And I do not forget that I owe 
very much of this satisfaction to you. But for your help, I 
could not have escaped from the band, or found my way 
through the mountain passes to this place. But now, my 
boy, you have been long away from your companions. Your 
absence may be noticed, and may bring you into trouble. 
So with my best thanks, dear boy, I will bid 3mu good-bye, 
and send you home,” said Sybil, holding out her hand. 

But tlie lad did not take it. 

“ ‘ Home ? ^ ” he echoed sadly, ‘ home ? ’ Ah, lady, wjiat 


A WISE AND GOOD OLD MAN. 149 

is my home ? A robber’s den ! No, madam, I will never 
go back to the band ! Here in the village I may get 
work as an errand boj^, or on some farmer’s field as a 
laborer ; but even if I do not, though I should perish, I will 
never go back to the band ! ” 

“ Say you so, my bo}" ? Then you shall even go home 
with me, and be my little brother ; and my husband — Ah ! 
my dear Lyon, how do you fare now ? — my husband shall 
be your guardian, and send you to some good school of art 
where j^our fine talent may be cultivated,” said Sybil, ear- 
nestly, again offering her hand. 

He took it and raised it to his brow, and said : 

“ You should be a queen, lady ! — a queen, to do your royal 
will towards all whom you wish to elevate. How can I 
thank you?” 

“By accepting, in simplicity of heart, all that I and all 
that my noble husband will do for you. For Mr. Berners 
will also be very quick to recognize and prompt to reward 
your services to me.” 

Poor Sybil ! in the generous exultation of her soul, she 
almost lost sight of the sorrows and dangers that still en- 
compassed and threatened her. 

She, in her young matronly pride and dignit}", feeling 
ever so much older and wiser than her juvenile worshipper, 
took upon herself to give him much good counsel as to his 
conduct through life, and was still engaged in this way 
when two gentlemen opened the door and entered the room. 
They were both old acquaintances of Mrs. Berners. The 
first was a Mr. Fortescue, an elderlj^ man, and a wealtliy 
i:)lanter of the neighborhood, now holding the office of high 
sheriff of the county. The other w^as a Mr. Sheridan, a 
brilliant young barrister, often associated with Mr. Berners 
in the same lawsuit. Both these gentlemen had been 
frequent guests at Black Hall, both in the time of her 
father and of her husband. 


160 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


y« Mr. Fortescue took off his cap, and bowed to his some- 
time hostess, as he said : 

Mrs. Berners, if I have come in person to serve this 
warrant, you will, I am sure, understand that I have 
assumed an unpleasant duty purely for your sake, to save 
you unnecessary pain.’^ 

I comprehend and thank you, sir,” answered Sybil. 

And you will at once accompany me to the magistrate's 
office.” 

Yes, I am ready ; let us go,” said Sybil, rising. 

And here is Mr. Sheridan, offering himself as your 
counsel until you can procure better,” said the high sheriff, 
presenting the young lawyer. 

I shall not be likely to find better, I am sure. I shall 
be very glad to retain Mr. Sheridan,” said S^’^bil, frankly 
offering her hand to the young man. 

It is not a pleasant visit, Mrs. Berners, this one to Mr. 
Hawkin’s office ; but it will only be a preliminary exami- 
nation, and I will do what I can to make it a brief one,” 
explained Mr. Sheridan, as he offered his arm to his client 
to conduct her from the room. 

S^'bil drew her veil over her face, and leaning on the arm 
of her counsel, was about to follow the sheriff, who had 
gone before, when she happened to think of her devoted 
young worshipper, who was standing disconsolately near 
the judge’s desk. 

“ Stay here until I return, dear Raphael,” she said, with 
a pleasant smile, and then passed from the room. 

They took her to an office under the hotel, where the sit- 
ting magistrate was ready to hear the case. 

A few witnesses were there — persons who had been 
present at the mask ball, and had observed the marked 
attentions of Lyon Berners to Rosa Blondelle, and the 
jealous rage of Sybil, and who had afterwards been drawn 
to the scene of the tragedy by the cries of the victim, and 


A WISE AND GOOD OLD MAN. 151 

had arrived in time to hear the fatal charge of the dying 
woman, as well as to behold her death. 

When Sybil saw these people, she shivered and turned 
pale — not with fear of their testimony, for she hud nerved 
herself to meet that, but with the sudden recollection of 
the appalling circumstances under which sbo had last met 
them, and which their appearance now called up in all its 
first horror. 

The magistrate’s clerk now handed Sybil a chair. She 
then raised her veil, bowed to Squire Hawkins, and took 
her seat. 

The proceedings were commenced. . 

The witnesses for the prosecution were one after the 
other duly sworn and examined ; and they deposed to the 
fatally condemning circumstances attending the murder of 
Kosa Blondelle as they are already known to the reader. 

This examination occupied about an hour. At its close 
the magistrate turned to the accused lady, and inquired 
what she had to say in defence. 

Sybil arose, and answered by giving the explanation 
that she had already made, on the night of the murder. 

The magistrate heard her through, but then instructed 
her that her unsupported assertion was no evidence, and 
would not be received as such, and called upon her to pro- 
duce her witnesses. 

Sybil was about to answer that she had no witnesses to 
produce, when a look from her counsel arrested her speech. 

He respectfully took her hand, replaced her in her seat, 
and then standing up, he said; 

My client has given a true explanation of the facts that 
have led so many persons to a false conclusion. But all 
further defence, we reserve for a higher tribunal.” 

And having said this, he sat down. He knew that no 
amount of defence would now save Sybil from being com- 
mitted for trial, and his object was therefore to shorten this 
ordeal. 


152 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


The magistrate then directed his clerk to make out the 
mittimus. When the instrument was ready, he signed it 
and looked around for some officer to execute it. 

“ I will take charge of the warrant and the lady,” said 
the high sheriff, interposing. 

“You, Mr. Fortescue!” exclaimed the magistrate, in 
surprise at the condescension of the high sheriff. 

“ Yes, I,” coolly answered the latter. 

“ But Mr. Magistrate, we are prepared to offer bail,” put 
in Sybil’s counsel. 

“Not a bailable case, Mr. Sheridan, as you, being a 
lawyer, should be very well aware. No case in which the 
prisoner is arrested upon the charge of a capital crime can 
be bailed.” 

“ I believe you speak of a rule. I speak of an exception. 
This lady was not arrested. She came forward, in the con- 
sciousness of innocence, and gave herself up, fairly chal- 
lenging a trial ! It is not likely, therefore, that she would 
run away, if released upon bail.” 

“ Quibbles, sir ! quibbles ! I know of no exceptions to 
this rule ! Mr. Sheriff, remove the prisoner.” 

Mr. Fortescue drew Sybil’s arm within his own, and 
whispered to her : 

“I will take you back to the Judge’s room, where we 
will remain while Sheridan goes before the Court and puts 
in an application for bail.” 

Sybil drew her vail again before her face as she was led 
from the magistrate’s office back to the Judge’s room, where 
she found her young escort, still anxiously awaiting her. 

“ It is all right, Raphael,” she said, “ or rather it will be 
all right very soon ! Will it not, Mr. Fortescue ? ” 

“ I trust and believe so, madam.” 

“The magistrate insisted that my case was not a bailable 
one, and indeed I knew that much myself; but the Judge 
said that he would admit me to bail, and he can do so, can 
he not? ” anxiously inquired Sybil. 


A WISE AND GOOD OLD MAN. 153 

'^The magistrate told you the truth ; and besides, he had 
no power to act in the matter of releasing you on bail ; but 
your case is a very exceptional one, Mrs. Berners, and the 
judge has very great discretionary powers, which I am sure 
he will stretch to the utmost in your behalf.” 

I hope without risk to his own position.” 

The high sheriff smiled. 

Judge Buthven,” he said, “is the most distinguished 
jurist, as well as the most honored judge and the most 
popular man that ever presided in our courts. His pro- 
ceedings become precedents. He can venture to do a great 
deal. He can afford to risk much ! ” 

While they talked thus together, Mr. Sheridan reentered 
the room, with a very cheerful expression on his counte- 
nance. 1 

“ All will he well,” he said, brightly. “ Mr. Sheriff, I 
bear you the Judge’s order to bring your charge into court. 
Mrs. Berners, you will meet some friends there, and will, 
with them, enter into a recognizance for your appearance at 
court when called to trial.” 

Sybil promptly arose and gave her hand to Mr. Eortescue, 
who drew it within his arm and led her out of the room, 
and then from the hotel to the court-house. 

The court-room was, comparatively speaking, empty. 
The crowd that had collected to hear a trial for forgery, 
which was just ended in the acquittal of the prisoner, had 
dispersed at its close ; and no one remained but the presid- 
ing judge, the officers of the court, a few lawyers, and a 
group of gentlemen. 

As Sybil was led up the aisle, between the rows of 
benches usually occupied by spectators, one of the gentle- 
men turned around, and to her joy and amazement, re- 
vealed the countenance of Lyon Berners. If the dead had 
risen before her, Sybil could scarcelj’- have been more as- 
tounded. He, from whose bleeding and insensible body, she 


154 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


had been torn away, scarcel}’’ five days before, now stood 
before her, ill, pale, faint, but living. His head was bound 
up with a white linen bandage as, leaning on the arm of 
Captain Pendleton, he came to meet her. 

“ Oh, my dear Sybil ! ” 

My dearest Lyon ! ” 

These were the words with which they greeted each 
other. 

“ Now, my friends, leave all this until you return together 
to Black Hall. Now we must not keep the court waiting, 
but proceed to business,” said Mr. Sheridan, taking the 
hand of his client, and drawing it again through his arm, as 
he led her up to a table that stood before the bar and upon 
which was spread out a formidable looking piece of parch- 
ment heavily engrossed. f 

Here is the bond by which you enter, with your hus- 
band, with Captain Pendleton and Miss Beatrix Pendleton, 
into a recognizance for your appearance at court when called 
to trial. The amount of bail is high, fifty thousand dol- 
lars ! But I fancy you are good for that,” said the young 
lawyer. 

Sybil smiled gravely, and when the pen was put into her 
hand, signed her name. 

Her signature was followed by those of Lyon Berners, 
Clement Pendleton, and Beatrix Pendleton. 

And the bond being duly sealed and delivered, Sybil was 
informed that she was free to depart. 

Free to depart ! No more need of flying ,and hiding ! 
Free to go home, to sit down in peace by her own dear fire- 
side, to lie down and repose on her own comfortable bed ! 
Free to depart ! Free to go home ! Oh, joy ! Sybil, in her 
delight, forgot that the darkest thunder-cloud of fate still 
lowered in the sky, threatening to break in destruction on 
her head ! 

Disregarding all forms, she was about to go up to the 


A WISE AND GOOD OLD MAN. 155 

bench to pour forth her thanksgivings to her old friend Judge 
Ruthven, when her husband laid his hand upon her shoulder 
and stopped her, whispering : 

“Remember, dearest, that we are in court, and govern 
yourself. We shall see the Judge at the hotel.” 

So Sybil merely courtesied to the bench, and gave her 
hand to her husband, who pressed it warmly, and then 
passed it over to Mr. Sheridan, who led her from the court- 
room. 

Lyon Berners, supported by Captain Pendleton, and 
Beatrix on the arm of old Mr. Fortescue followed. 

And thus they all returned to the judge’s room in the 
hotel. 

“Lyon, dearest! there is my little friend and deliverer. 
Come here, Raphael, and get acquainted with my hnsbaiid^” 
said Sybil, as her eyes fell upon her young escort. 

The boy came at her call, and she presented him to Mr. 
Berners, who received him with some surprise, but much 
condescension. 

“ I will tell you all about Raphael when we get back to 
Black Hall. In the mean time, you must take him upon 
trust, for he is to go home with us,” said Sybil. 

And before another word could be spoken, the door was 
thrown open, and J udge Ruthven entered. 

All arose and stood up, as the venerable old man went 
around and shook hands with each one. 

Sybil held his hands between hers, and with the tears 
filling her eyes, warmly tlianked him for restoring her to 
her home ; though it might be only for a season, she said, 
it would give her strength to bear all that might come after- 
wards. 

“ Heaven grant, my dear Sj^bil, that your full and perfect 
acquittal and vindication may come afterwards, as I entirely 
believe they will. Your trial may not come on at this term 
of the court, and if not, there will be a considerable interval 


156 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


of time, during which your counsel must busy himself in 
hunting up evidence in your favor, and if possible tracing 
this mystery to its solution. Heaven bless you ! There, 
do n’t weep,” said the judge, shaking both her hands, and 
then relinquishing them. 

And they all sat down and talked hopefully over the sub- 
ject, until the door was again opened and the waiter ap- 
peared to announce that the carriage ordered for Mr. Ber- 
ners was waiting. 

“ Come, dear Sybil, let us bid good-by to our friends, and 
go,” said Lyon Berners to his wife. 

And both took an affectionate and respectful leave of the 
judge, and were about to do the same by the Pendletons, 
when the Captain said : 

“ No ; Beatrix and myself prefer to go down to the side- 
walk, and take leave of you at the carriage door.” 

‘‘And the only reason why we do not go all the way 
home with you is, because we know that you have some 
mutual explanations to make, and would rather be alone to- 
day. But to-morrow we shall go to see you, and if you will 
let me, I will make you a long visit,” added Beatrix Pen- 
dleton. 

“ Oh, Beatrix, dearest ! always true and brave ! ” ex- 
claimed Sybil, suddenly kissing the young lady, while Lyo7i 
warmly grasped the hand of her brother.” 

Both the husband and wife understood and appreciated 
the motives of these devoted friends. 

They went down stairs, attended by the Pendletons, Mr. 
Sheridan, and Raphael. 

When the Berners with Raphael were in the carriage, 
Clement and Beatrix Pendleton took leave, reiterating their 
intention to visit Black Hall the next day. 

“And I also must be with you at an early hour, Mrs. 
Berners ; for it will be necessary to begin at once to prepare 
your defence. I would also like to learn, Mr. Berners, 


HOME. 


15T 


whom 5mu intend to associate witli me in counsel,” said 
young Slieridan, as he took leave of the lady and gentle- 
man. 

“We will settle all that in the morning, Sheridan, and 
of course I myself must be with you in the defence,” re- 
plied Lyon Berners. 

And they shook hands for the last time, and the young 
lawyer ordered the coachman to drive on. 

“ The old ladies at the Hall will be prepared to receive 
you, Berners. I took care to dispatch a messenger to them 
two hours ago, to announce your coming,” said Captain 
Pendleton, calling after them. 

Lyon stretched his head out of the window, and nodded 
and waved his hand, as the carriage passed out of the vil- 
lage. 


CHAPTEB XIII. 

HOME. 

There blend the ties that strengthen 
Our hearts in hours of grief 
The silver links that lengthen 
Joy’s visits when most brief! — Berita.bd Babton. 

“Dear Lyon, how came you here so soon after your 
dreadful accident, and at such a risk to your life ? ” 

“ My dearest Sybil, what led you to give yourself up ?” 

These questions w’ere simultaneously asked of each other 
by the husband and wife, as soon as they were fairly upon 
their journey. 

Then their eyes met, and despite the gravity of their 
position, both smiled. 

“Whose question shall be answered first?” inquired 
Lyon. 

“ Oh I mine ! mine ! ” exclaimed Sybil j “ tell me, dear 


158 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Lyon, how it is that you are able to be here at all. The 
bailiffs indeed told me that you were not dangerously in- 
jured ; if it had not been for that assurance, I should have 
died with anxiety ; but still I had every reason to suppose 
that 3’ou were very seriously injured. How could you get 
up so soon ? How could you bear the stage-coach journey ? 
Are you sure that it has not endangered 3'our life ? 

“ My dearest Sybil, no,” said Mr. Berners, answering 
her last question first. “On the contrary, it has saved itj 
for if I had remained in Baltimore in that terrible state of 
anxiety'- about you, I should certainly have fallen into a 
brain-fever. My injuries were not nearly so severe as they 
seemed. The blow stunned me, and cut my scalp in a 
glancing way. It bled very profusely, so that the great 
flow of blood probably saved me from a fit of illness, at the 
least.” 

“ But the jarring journey by the coach ? ” 

“ I did not come that way. I came by water.” 

“ Oh ! I forget that you could come so. Go on.” 

“ After you were taken from me, I was laid upon a sofa, 
where I found myself when I recovered consciousness. The 
stage-coach that had carried you off had been gone an 
hour, and no other was to start until the next morning. 
To hope to overtake you was vain. But to meet you on 
your arrival at Blackville was practicable, by taking the 
steamer that was to start at noon. So I ordered a carriage, 
threw myself into it, and was driven to the pier, where I 
took passage in the Falcon, bound for Kichmond.” 

“ But, oh, Lyon ! how could you have borne even so 
much exertion as that, so soon after 3'our accident ? ” 

“ Not verj" well, to tell you the truth. For as soon as I 
got on board, I had to turn into my berth, and lay there 
with ice on my head and mustard at my heels, until the 
boat arrived at Bichmond. But I was then well enough to 
leave the steamer and embark on board a schooner, bound 


HOME. 


159 


up the river. At the mouth of the Black Biver I got into 
a small fishing smack, that brought me to Blackville.” 

“ And you reached the village — 

Only this morning. I expected to find you in the 
hands of the authorities, when, to my amazement, I heard 
that you had been rescued from the bailiffs by that band of 
road robbers. I had scarcely recovered from that astound- 
ing intelligence before I met Sheridan hurrying from the 
hotel towards the court-house.” 

To get my bail ; but go on.” 

“ He was surprised to see me, of course, but drew my arm 
in his own and begged me to go with him. On our way 
thither he told me of the almost incredible news that jmu 
^ had given yourself up to justice; that there had been a pre- 
liminary examination, and that you were detained in hon- 
orable custodj^ by the high sheriff, until he, as your counsel, 
should apply to the court to have you released upon recogni- 
zance. I went with him to the court-room, where I found 
Pendleton and his sister. It seems that Pendleton had 
come to Blackville to meet Beatrix, who was returning from 
her visit to the citj"; but on hearing what was afoot they 
had gone into court to tender their services in case they 
should be needed.” 

“ Oh ! ” burst forth S\^bil in enthusiasm, what a noble 
pair is that brother and sister ! What man in this world is 
worthy to marry Beatrix, or what WQman to be the wife of 
Clement? ” 

“Yet I hope they both will be happily wedded, for all 
that,” observed Lyon. “ And now, dear Sybil, you know 
the rest. You know that Judge Kuthven ^ took the respon- 
sibility ^ of releasing you upon our united recognizance for 
your appearance at court ! And now, as I have told you all 
I have to tell, I would like to hear all that has befallen you 
since we parted, and above all, what induced you to give 
yourself up.” 


• 160 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


“ Stay ! fell me ; did I not right in giving myself up ?” 

“ Yes, dear Sybil. Being separated from me, and in the 
bands of outlaws, you did right to yield to law. But tell 
me tlie immediate motive of your action.” 

Being so pressed, Sybil commenced and related all that 
happened to her from the time that she had been so rudely 
torn from the side of her wounded husband to the moment 
that she met him again in the court-room. And she did not 
fail to give due credit to young Baphael, her devoted wor- 
shipper and brave deliverer. 

At the close of the narrative, Lyon Berners turned to- 
wards the boy, saying : 

“ Give me your hand, young friend ! Henceforth you are 
our son, to share our home and hearts, and to be cared for as 
long as we all shall live ! ” 

Raphael bowed low over the hand that was extended to 
him. 

And no more words w'ere then spoken, for the carriage 
was just turning in to the elm avenue leading up to Black 
Hall. 

But when Sybil came in sight of her home, she suddenly 
turned to her husband, and asked : 

“ Oh, Lyon ! what has become of my little Nelly ? You 
know we left her locked up in our chamber that morning we 
started out for a walk, and was stopped by the sheriff’s 
officers in the hall of the hotel. What has become of her ; 
do you know ? ” 

“ She is safe. I brought her from Baltimore to Black- 
ville with me. But then — I am very sorry ; but in the rush 
of other events I forgot her, and left her 'in the hotel. How- 
ever, she will be well taken care of, for the people know 
her.” 

I am so glad to hear she is safe. We will send, for her 
to-morrow,” smiled Sybil. 

The carriage rolled on to the house, and drew up before 
its doors. 


HOME. 


161 


Sybil looked out from the window, and saw Miss Tabitha 
Winterose at the head of all the house servants, standing 
on the porch to welcome her. Among them was her little 
Skye terrier, held in check by Joseph. But as soon as 
Nelly saw her mistress’ face she broke loose, and with almost 
human cries of frantic delight and impatience, scampered 
forward, and climbed into S^'biFs down-stretched arms. 

‘‘The first to welcome me home, you faithful little friend ! 
But how did you come here, Nelly ? ” asked Sybil, taking 
the little creature on her lap, holding its head between her 
open hands, and looking down into its loving brown eyes. 

But for all answer Nelly suddenly darted up and kissed 
her mistress on the chin. 

“ Welcome home, Miss Sj-bil ! Oh, Lord be thanked as I 
have lived to see this blessed day ! ” blubbered Joe, coming 
forward, and laughing and sobbing with delight under the 
full conviction that all his mistress’ sorrows were now over. 

“ Welcome back, Mrs. Berners, my dear child ! a thousand 
welcomes back ! ” whimpered Miss Tabby, pressing forward 
to meet her. 

“ And me too, Miss Sybil,” added Billy, rather irrele- 
vantly. 

“ Now, Lord, let thy servant depart, for I have seen the 
desire of my eyes,” said old Abraham, reverently lifting his 
hat from his w'hite head, and slightly misquoting the Scrip- 
tures. 

Sybil had by this time alighted, and was shaking hands 
right and left with her attached servants. 

But now a touching sight met her view — a little delicate 
baby boy, with fair curling hair, clear blue ej^es, and a pink 
and white complexion, hiding behind Miss Tabby, clinging 
to her skirts, and peeping out with a look half shy and half 
confiding. 

“ Oh, you poor child ! ” said Sybil, tenderly raising him 
in her arms and pressing him to her bosom, while her tears 
10 


162 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


fell fast upon bis head. You poor, poor child ! If I had 
done what they said, could I ever have looked in your sweet 
eyes again ? ” 

“Do n’t cry, poor lady, don’t cry,” said the child, lifting 
up his little apron and trying to wipe her eyes. 

“ Ah, you poor baby ! But you shall never want a mother 
while I live,” continued Sj^bil, still weeping for pity. 

“ Do n’t cry, Cro’ will be a good, good boy,” coaxed the 
child, softly stroking lier face with his little liand. 

“ Cro’ will give jmu his mudic box, and all his p’ay 
things. Do n’t cry,” begged the child, and as a last resort, 
he put his arms around her neck, and added, “ Cro’ will love 
you.” 

“ Come, my dear Sybil ! come into the house,” said Mr. 
Berners, who, having paid and discharged the hired carriage, 
now turned to offer his arm to his wife. 

But Sybil covered the child in her arms with kisses, and 
pressed him warmlj’^ to her bosom, -before she relinquished 
him to the care of Miss Tabby. 

Then she turned to her husband, who still held out his 
arm to her. 

“ Poor Lyon ! ” she said. “ You are scarcely able to 
stand, yet you wish to escort me in. Joseph ! ” — she called 
to their faithful servant — “ come here. Do n’t you see your 
master’s state ? ” 

Joe came and looked upon his “ sovereign lord,” and his 
eyes and mouth gradually opened in a growing consterna- 
tion, as he gazed upon the bandaged head. 

“ Lor save us, marse Lyon ; has you been blowed up agin, 
or has you got you’sef’ inter a — ” Joe paused in respect. • 

“Bow, would you say, Joe? Something like it, I must 
confess ; and a very disreputable appearance I present, no 
doubt! But there, Joe, I will take your arm into the house, 
for I do feel rather light-headed still,” said Lyon, with a 
smile, as leaning on his servant, he went up the porch 


HOME. 


163 


stairs. Sj^bil followed, attended by Eapbael, Miss Tabby 
and little Croinartie, Delia, and all the servants. 

“Come up into your own room, my darling Miss Sybil, 
Mrs. Berners I mean, which it is all well aired, and nice and 
warm and readj' for 3^011,” said Miss Tabbj”, leading the way 
up-stairs, followed by Sybil and her maid Delia. 

“ Oh, how good it is to be home once more ! Oh, how 
delightful to enter one’s own bed-room again,” sighed S3'bil, 
with the sense of a great relief, as she sank into her own 
luxurious eas3’'-chair, beside the bright wood fire. 

“ Let me take off 3mur bonnet, m3’’ pet,” said the affec- 
tionate old maid, unt3’ing with trembling fingers the hat of 
Sybil. ' 

“ Miss Tabby, how came little !N’ell3’' here ? ” inquired 
Mrs. Berners, as the little dog, who had followed her up 
stairs, jumped into her lap. 

“ Wh^”, lors. Miss Sybil, the groom from the liver3’’-stable 
who brought the news of your coming, fotch the dog too. I 
b’lieve he said as Capting Pendleton found him running 
round loose, and sent him home.” 

“ Oh, Miss Tabb3% sometime when you and I are sitting 
by our winter evening fire, I can tell you such stories of 
what I have gone through, and the best story of all is that 
of little Kell3’,” said Sybil caressing her tiny four-footed 
favorite. 

“ Surely ! ” exclaimed Miss Tabby, who, having relieved 
Sybil of her bonnet and shawl, now sat down for a quiet 
little talk, while waiting for dinner to be announced. She 
had little Cro’ on her lap. 

“ Miss Tabby,” inquired Sybil, suddenl3^, “ where is that 
child’s nurse? I notice that 3’ou seem to have him all the 
time.” 

Where is his nurse, is it Miss S3’bil ? Ah, the brazen 
piece ! She ’s gone and got married to Saundy McGruder 
the livery-stable keeper — master of him who brought th^ 


164 TKIED FOR HER LIFE. ^ 

news of your ^rival ! Ugh ! exclaimed Miss Tabby in 
strong disgust. She had never taken upon herself to get 
married, and she set her face steadily against all such im- 
proprieties in the young servants that were under her 
control. 

“ And so she deserted her charge ? Poor baby ! Hard 
to lose his mother and his nurse at the same time,” said 
Sybil, compassionately. Suddenly she changed the subject, 
and inquired : 

Miss Tabby ! did you ever believe I did that ? ” 

“ Did which, honey ? ” 

What they accused me of? ” 

Now I wish you had n’t axed me that there question, 
Miss Sybil ! I do so ! for it looks just as if you had a 
doubt on me, as never doubted you, exclaimed the faithful 
creature, with an injured look. 

“ Heaven bless you, good soul ! Then you do n’t believe 
it ! ” cried Sybil, in delight. 

^‘Now look here, honey ! I’ve nursed you ever since you 
W’as a month old, and how could I believe you would do a 
thing like that ! Though the good Lord knows as you had 
aggravation enough to drive you out’n your seventeen 
senses, and into anything ! But you never did that ! I’d 
stake my soul on to it. Why, see here ! When that igno- 
rant nigger, Dilly, as was a crying and a howling after you, 
fit to break her heart, when she axes me, ‘ Oh, Miss Tabby, 
do you think as rhy mistress did that ?’ I fetches her sich 
a box of the years, as I should n’t wonder if they ring yet, 
though that was a matter of nigh two months ago ! ” 

“ Thanks, dear old friend, for your faith in me. And 
now, dear Miss Tabby, did you notice that fair boy whom 
we brought home with us ? ” 

“ I never see such a heavenly looking boy in all my daj^s. 
To be sure I noticed of him. Wherever did you pick him 
up, Miss Sybil?” 


HOME. 


165 


On my travels, old Tabby. I will tell you all I know 
about him, when you and I sit down together to gossip by 
that winter evening fire we spoke of.” 

“ And, oh, how much you ’ll have to tell me, my child. 
I looks to have raj’ hair bristle up on ind ! ” 

“ Then wear a strong cap, and tie the strings under your 
chin tightlj", that it may not be lifted from your head,” 
laughed Sybil. “But about the boy; he* is to make his 
home with us ; and so I want you to have one of the best 
bedrooms prepared, and a plate alwaj^s put on the table for 
him ; and to instruct the servants that they are to treat 
him in all respects as a son of the house,” answered Sybil. 

“ Lor’ bless me ! Is that so ! exclaimed the old maid, as 
her eyes opened in amazement. “ Well, Miss Sybil, I have 
heard of ladies afore now, being so angelable as to pervide 
for their husband’s unnateral relations ; but that you should 
do sich a thing I never would a believed. You ’re a wery 
good child ! but your goodness don’t lay into that toleratin’ 
line, that I know.” 

“W^hat on earth do you mean. Tabby?” sharply de- 
manded Sybil. “I’m shocked and disgusted at you, that 
I am.” 

“ Why, what for? You said the boy was to be respected 
as a son of the house; and then ag’in, they’ve both got 
light hair and blue eyes, and fair skins,” said Miss Wiu- 
terose, in dismay. 

“ Tabby, as far as I understand yon, I am quite ashamed 
of you. That boy is the son of a man who calls himself 
Captain Inconnu, but whom I believe to own another name ; 
but no matter about that now; that will figure in some of 
the stories that I shall tell you by our evening fires — 
Well, what do you want ? ” 

This last question was addressed to a colored boy, who 
opened the chamber door and looked in. 

“ Please, ma’am, I wanted to tell Miss Tabby as dinner 
was on the table,” said the child. 


166 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


^^And didn’t you know better, you little brute, than to, 
open a lady’s door without knocking? Go down to the 
kitchen with yourself, this very instant ! ” exclaimed Miss 
Tabby, indignantly. 

“ Do n’t scold the child this first day of my return,” 
pleaded Sybil. 

“ And, lor’, now here I have been a keeping on jmu, child, 
a-satisfyin’ of my old woman’s curiosity, and not even a 
leaving of you time enough to dress for dinner,” said the 
old maid, regretfully. 

“ Dress for dinner ! ” echoed Sj’bil, lifting her eyebrows. 

I had almost forgotten such a piece of propriety ! I have 
not dressed for dinner for nearly two months ! ” 

But for all that, she got up, and went to her toilet glass 
and smoothed her hair, and washed her hands, and put on 
a clean collar. 

That will do for to-day. Now do n’t look hurt, you 
good old Tabby, and I ’ll promise to-morrow to ‘ dress up to 
the nines ! ’ ” said Sybil, laughing, as she tripped out of the 
room. She was in such good spirits at being home again, 
she had for the moment forgotten that she was only there 
on sufferance. 

And I had such a splendid dinner got for her, too ! 
With all the silver-gilt and cut-glass out, and some of the 
old wine them devils happened to leave when they robbed 
the cellar. I have n’t told her about that robbery 3’et ! I 
do n’t want to tell her no bad news the first day as she gets 
home,” ruminated Miss Tabby, as she sat over the fire with 
little Cromartie in her arms. 

Of course Miss Winterose could not guess that Sybil had 
heard of the raid upon her cellars. 

Sybil ran down stairs, at the foot of which she found Mr. 
Berners and Baphael waiting for her. 

“I have been taking a nap on the parlor sofa, and my 
young friend here has been mousing among the books in 
the library,” said Lyon Berners, as he met his wife. 


HOME. 


16T 


hope you feel refreshed,’^ said Sybil. 

Very much,” answered Lj^on. “ Raphael, my boy, give 
Mrs. Berners your arm in to the dinner-table.” ** 

The lad blushingly obeyed, and they went in to dinner. 

There was one little affectionate miscliievous thought 
darted through Mr. Berners’ brain ; ‘‘ I will show my wife 
that I can trust her with this pretty page w^ho is in love 
with her, better than she could trust me with the beautiful 
widow who wms not in love with me,” he said smilingly to 
himself, as he followed them in to the dining-room. 

This may be said to be the re-commencement of Sybil 
Berners’ happy home-life. Of the awful cloud that overhung 
her fate, she scarcely thought at all this evening. When 
dinner was over she led the w^ay into her own bright draw- 
ing-room, which had been that day “swept and garnished” 
for her reception. Fresh snow-white lace curtains were at 
the w’indows, contrasting finely w'ith the warm, bright hues 
of the crimson satin hangings, the crimson velvet parlor set, 
and the crimson Brussels carpet. A brilliant sea-coal fire 
was glowing in the grate, and vases filled with fragrant hot- 
house plants stood on every white marble-top table and 
stand. 

Like a child home for the holidays, Sybil roamed about 
in delight from object to object, and fondh" opened her dis- 
used piano, to try if it was still in tune. She was surprised 
and pleased to find that its tone was perfect. She had been 
absent but two months or less, and she knew it, yet she felt 
as if two years must have elapsed since she had touched her 
piano. She sat down and played some of her favorite airs, 
and sang some of her favorite songs, to the great entertain- 
ment of Mr. Berners and Raphael. 

But this evening she was too happy and too restless to 
keep to any one thing. So she soon left the piano, and 
called Raphael to follow her to a book-stand in the corner, 
where she showed him some fine engravings from the old 


168 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


masters — a volume containing master-pieces from Guido, 
Correggio, Leonardo, Murillo, and others. With all this 
wealth of art the poor child-artist was delighted. 

But here is something better still, my boy ! Here is a 
volume of the rarest gems,” she said, opening a book of 
Eaphael’s Madonnas and laying it before him. 

He uttered a cry of delight, and then checked himself, 
blushed, and apologized. 

Meanwhile Lyon Berners reclined upon the sofa. He 
was still weak from his accident, and from the imprudent 
journey that had followed it. He lay there, watching 
Sybil, content that she should be amused, until the wife 
herself suddenly lifted up the volume she had been exam- 
ining with the boy, and calling Eaphael to follow her, went 
over to her husband, and kneeling by his side, wdth the 
book resting on the edge of the sofa, she turned a page, 
and said : 

“ Look here, dear Lyon ! I want you to notice this 
am.azing resemblance,” and she pointed first to an engraved 
head of the artist Raphael occupying the centre of the 
title-page, and then to the living head of the boy Raphael 
bending by her side. 

“ It is a likeness,” said Lyon. 

“ Likeness ! It is a portrait ! If I had known this boy 
before, and had seen this picture anywhere else, I should 
have supposed it had been taken for him,” said Sybil, ear- 
nestly. 

Lyon closed the book, and asked her to play and sing a 
certain beautiful evening hymn which was a great favorite 
with them, after which he suggested thej’^ should retire. 

So passed the first evening of Sybil’s recovered home. 

The next morning, after she had breakfasted, she took 
another school-girl’s holiday frolic. Slie ran all over the 
house, renewing her acquaintance with every room. 

She had scarcely finished her pleasant tour, when old 


HOME. 


169 


Joe came after her to say that Marser Sheridan, from 
Blackville had called to see her. 

Her counsel ! 

Tlie announcement of this visitor awoke Sybil from her 
pleasant dream of home and safet3\ 

With trembling hands she arranged her dress, and went 
below to the parlor, where she found Mr. Berners entertain- 
ing the lawj’-er. 

Both arose at her entrance, and Mr. Sheridan shook 
hands with her, saying : 

I do not know a better place to get up my brief for the 
defence, Mrs. Berners, than here on the scene of the trag- 
edy and the imputed crime.” 

The tone and manner of the lawyer were very cheerful, 
and at once restored Sybil’s composure. 

“ I have heard your explanation of the circumstances 
that led you to the bed-side of Kosa Blondelle, at the mo- 
ment in which her murderer had left her, but I heard it at 
second hand. I would now hear it from yourself,” said Mr. 
Sheridan. 

Sybil began and related the whole story, which the law- 
yer took down from her lips. 

Now,” he said, “ Mr. Berners, I would have your state- 
ment, commencing from the moment the deceased rushed 
into the library.” 

L3'on Berners related the circumstances attending Rosa 
Blondelle’s death, as far as he knew them. 

‘‘ And now I would like to minutely examine the room 
in which the crime was committed,” said Mr. Sheridan. 

“ Come, then,” answered Lyon Berners. And he led the 
lawyer to the rooms lately occupied by Rosa Blondelle. 

“ A man might easily have escaped bj” these windows an 
instant after having committed the crime. They close with 
a spring catch. The fact of their having been found fas- 
tened when the room was examined, proves nothing what- 


170 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


ever against my client. The murderer could in an instant 
unfasten one of them from within, jump through, and clap 
it to behind him, when it would be as fast as if secured by 
a careful servant witliin,^^ said the lawyer, after the exam- 
ination was complete. 

Then tliey all returned to the library, where Mr. Sheri- 
dan summed up his brief for the defence. 

“ Give yourself no uneasiness, Mrs. Berners,” he said. 

Your case lies in a nut-shell. It is based upon your own 
explanation of your attitude at the bed-side of the victim, 
and upon the fact, which I shall undertake to prove, that 
the assassin had escaped from the window at the foot of the 
bed.” 

The lawyer spoke so cheerfully that Sybil’s spirits rose 
again. 

He then, as a precautionary measure, he said, to give 
them the help of the greatest bulwarks of the bar, advised 
that they should w'rite to Washington to engage the ser- 
vices of the celebrated Ishmael Worth, who, in a case like 
this, would apply in the regular way to be admitted to 
plead. 

Mr. Berners accepted this advice, and said that he would 
lose no time in following it. 

Then the lawj'er took his leave. 

He had scarcely got out of sight before Captain Pendle- 
ton and his sister Beatrix drove up to the door. 

“ I have come to stay with you. as long as you will let 
me, my darling, said Beatrix, as Sybil hastened to welcome 
her. 

Then you will stay with me forever, or until you are 
happily married, dearest,” answered Sybil, hospitably, as 
she led her friend up to a bedroom to lay off her bonnet. 

Captain Pendleton, meantime, was taken care of by Mr. 
Berners. 

“ Clement ! ” said the latter, when he had taken his 


HOME. 


171 


guest to his dressing-room, we are old, tried friends, and 
need not fear to speak tlie truth to each other. Tell me 
now, frankly, has not the action of the judge, in admitting 
Sybil to bail, been very much censured? Will it not injure 
him and affect his position, even to the risk of impeach- 
ment ? ” 

Oh, no ! There is a great deal of talk, to he sure. 
Malcontents complain that he has exceeded his prerogative, 
that he has overstepped the law, that he has tried to estab- 
lish a dangerous precedent, and so on, and so on.” 

“And what does Judge Ruthven say to all this ? ” 

“ Nothing, nothing whatever ! Do you suppose for an 
instant he is going to condescend to defend himself to such 
asses ? He says nothing.” 

“ But his friends ! his friends ! surely the^ defend him ? ” 

“ Thej’’ do. They tell the donkeys that a judge has cer- 
tain discretionary^ pow'ers to modify the severity of the law 
when justice requires it; that these modifications become 
precedents for other judges to follow”, and finally they 
become law”s that none may dispute ; that in this case Judge 
Euthven has followed the spirit of the law, if not its letter; 
that he based his act upon the fact that the accused lady, 
being perfectly safe from the officers of the law at the time, 
voluntarily came forwrard, delivered herself up, and chal- 
lenged a trial ; and that therefore she w”as a worthy object 
of the privilege of bail.” 

Honest Clement Pendleton was no lawyer, and ho had 
spoken a trifle unprofessionally ; but it was no matter. 
Lyon Berners understood him, and was satisfied. 

Sybil and Beatrix came down to join them ; and then 
they all adjourned to the dining-room, where they had 
luncheon. 

Then Captain Pendleton went home, leaving Beatrix 
with Sybil. 

A few days after this the Court adjourned, and Sybil 


172 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


knew that she would not be brought to trial until the spring 
term. In that long interval, what discoveries might not be 
made to save her ? Her hopes rose high. 

‘‘But oh!” she thought, with a shudder, “if these 
months had to he passed in prison I ” And in the depths 
of her grateful heart she again thanked Providence and 
J udge Buthven for her restoration to home and friends. 

Then Christmas came. Under the circumstances they 
preferred to spend it very quietly. Beatrix was still with 
them, and Clement was invited to come and dine on Christ- 
mas-day. 

Sybil took great delight in delighting. And if good 
taste forbade her now to indulge in the lavish hospitality 
and gay festivity that had always been customary in Black 
Hall at this season, she determined to indemnify herself by 
making unusually handsome presents to her servants and 
dependants, as w'ell as the most liberal donations to the 
poor — and so to be happy in the happiness she should 
bestow. 

With this intention she put a small fortune in her 
longest purse, and went in her roomiest carriage to Black- 
ville, intending to empty the purse and fill the carriage 
before her return. 

The day being Christmas eve, the village was full of 
people, come there to shop for the holidays, and poor Sybil 
was brought to a sense of her condition by the treatment 
she received — silence, rude stares, or injurious whispers 
greeted her as she passed. But they were only pin thrusts, 
which she soon forgot in the interesting errand upon which 
she had come. 

Slie loaded her carriage with bundles, boxes, and baskets, 
and returned home in time to separate the treasures, and 
write upon each one of them the name of the person for 
whom it was intended. 

The next morning Captain Pendleton arrived early, to 


HOME. 


173 


assist in the distribution of the presents. No one was 
neglected ; every body was made happy with several valu- 
able gifts. 

Little Cro’ went to paradise in the corner of the room, 
with his cap full of toys. 

That day also Sybil’s dependents enjoyed as good a dinner 
as was set for herself and her friends. So, after all, in spite 
of fate, they kept their “Christmas, merry still.” 

When it was generally known that Sybil Berners had 
returned to Black Hall, there was much discussion among 
the ladies as to whether they should call on her. 

Some declared that she was a murderess, whose face they 
never could bear to look on, and therefore of course they 
never would go near her. Others, who said that they 
believed her guiltless and wished her well, added, that they 
felt the same delicacy in going or in staying away — as in 
the first case Mrs. Berners might consider their call an 
intrusion from motives of curiosity, and in the second case 
she might construe their absence into intentional neglect. 
And between these two extremes there was every shade of 
opinion as to Sybil’s culpability, and every sort of reason 
for not going to see her just yet. 

And so it followed that Sybil passed a whole, good, 
peaceful fortnight in the company of her husband, her three 
devoted friends, her faithful servants, and her little pets. 

But at length, early in January, sympathy on the one 
hand and curiosity on the other prevailed over every feeling 
and reason, and Sybil’s neighbors, both detractors and de- 
fenders, began to call on her. 

But Mrs. Berners had penetration enough to know her 
friends from her foes, and so she felt no hesitation and made 
MO mistakes when she welcomed the visits of the first and 
declined those of the last mentioned. 

So the winter slipped away peacefully enough, and Sybil 
seldom remembered what her friends tried to make her for- 
get — the heavy cloud that still bung over her fate. 


S 


174 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


•• 

Slie was reminded of it only when her counsel came to 
consult with her ; but then thej^ always wore cheerful coun- 
tenances, and spoke hopeful words that inspired her with 
confidence and courage. 

Sometimes indeed, the recollection of the awful crisis 
that could not be shunned, that must be met, would come to 
her in the middle watches of tlie night, and fill her soul 
with horror ; but with the first beams of tlie morning sun, 
this darkness of her spirit, like the darkness of the hour, 
would pass away. 

In was in all the reviving life and budding beauty of 
early spring, that the Criminal Court resumed its sittings 
at Blackville. 

The case of Sybil Berners, charged with the murder of 
Kosa Blondelle, was the very first upon the docket. 

It was a day as bright, beautiful, and glorious as anj^ day 
that ever dawned, when the summons came that called Mrs. 
Berners up to the court to be put upon trial for her life. 


CHxiPTER XIV. 

THE TRIAL FOR LIFE. 


If you condemn me. fle upon your law! 

There is no right in the decrees of judges 
I stand for justice ! Answer I Shall 1 have It?— S hakespkabe. 

The awful contrast that there was between her appear- 
ance of the fairest freedom and her reality of the darkest 
bondage ! 

But she scarcel 3^ realized such a contrast until that morn- 
ing, when she arose and threw open her south window and 
looked out upon her own beautiful home valley, now^ fresh 
with the verdure of early spring, and radiant with the light 
of the young day. A luminous haze like sifted gold-dust 


THE TRIAL FOR LIFE. 


175 


hung around the mountain tops ; a dewy freshness sparkled 
on their wooded sides ; and the river lay like a clear mirror 
beloW'. 

Must she leave all this for the terrors of the court- 
room ? she inquired, with a shudder of her shrinking 
heart. And for a moment she felt that even the gloom of 
the prison might have better prepared her to meet the hor- 
rors of a trial for life, than this peaceful, bright home stay- 
ing had done. 

Yes, the contrast between her surroundings and her im- 
pending ordeal seemed an awful mockerj’ of fate! 

She knew that the court would open for the spring term 
that day ; but she did not know that she would be wanted 
so soon. 

They were all at breakfast that morning in the cheerful 
front parlor. 

Mr. and Mrs. Berners, their protege E-aphael, their little 
adopted baby-boy Cromartie, who always sat in a high 
chair beside his benefactress, Beatrix Pendleton who was 
resolved to stay with Sybil to the last, and Tabitha Witjte- 
rose who sat at the head of the table to serve out the coffee 
and tea, because Sybil had said that everything tasted bet- 
ter coming from ‘‘Old Tabby’s’^ hand — -these were all 
gathered around the table, when Sheriff Fortescue was 
announced and entered the room. 

“You have come for me!’’ said Sybil, in a low, terrified 
tone, as she arose from her seat before any one else could 
move or speak. 

“liesume your seat, Mrs. Berners, and finish your break- 
fast. There is no hurry,” answered the old gentleman, as 
calmly as he could. 

Then he saluted the party, shook hands with Mr. Ber- 
ners, and accepted the seat offered him by Joe. 

“She is wanted this morning?” inquired Mr. Berners, 
jn a low voice. 


176 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


The sheriff bowed gravely in assent. 

Sybil had been kindly pressed to resume her seat and 
finish her breakfast. She sank back into her chair indeed, 
but could not eat another morsel. Nor could any one else 
at the table, not even poor little Cro’, who saw by the faces 
of all around that something terrible had happened, or was 
about to do so. 

The meal was at an end. The breakfast party arose in 
trepidation. 

‘‘ Is she wanted now, immediately ? ’’ hastily inquired 
Lyon Berners. 

The sheriff again bowed in assent, but added : 

I do not wish to hurry her.” 

“ I will not keep you waiting, Mr. Bortescue,” said Sybil, 
trying to steady her voice, as she prepared to leave the 
room. 

But here little Cro’, who had been watching every body 
anxiously, found out by some process of his own that the 
terrible thing which was going to happen threatened Sj'bil, 
and he slid down from his high chair at the risk of break- 
ing his limbs, and ran to her and clung to her dress. 

“ Take him away. Miss Tabby ! Sybil is going to Black- 
ville, Cro’, and she will bring Cro’ some candy, when she 
comes back,” she said, tenderly placing the child in Miss 
Winterose’s arms. 

Mr. Berners told Joe to have the carriage brought around 
and to prepare to drive it, and then he gave his arm to 
Sybil, who really needed its support in going up to her 
chamber. 

Beatrix followed her. 

Baphael wali^ed up and down the length of the breakfast- 
room, in uncontrollable agitation. 

Miss Tabby clasped the child to her bosom, and rocking 
him and herself to and fro, w^ept and sobbed bitterly. 

And as for me, I feel like a hangman,” muttered old 


THE TRIAL FOR LIFE. 


177 


Mr. Fortescue to himself as he stood looking moodily out 
of the window. 

Mr. Fortescue had not been high sheriff very long, and 
was new to the ghastly duties of his office, to be sure, he 
might have easily deputed this irksome task to another, hut 
he chose to perform it himself, lest that others should not 
do it so kindly. 

In a few moments Sybil returned, ready for her drive. 

She was dressed — her dress was afterwards minutely de- 
scribed in the county paper, and also in many others that 
reported the trial — she was dressed then in a light gray suit 
throughout, bonnet, mantle, and gown being of the same 
material, and even gloves and vail of the same hue ; a pale 
blush rose relieved the neutral shade of her bonnet, and a 
ribbon of the same delicate tint fastened her small linen 
collar. 

Beatrix Pendleton, in a black silk suit, with a black lace 
bonnet and shawl, followed her. 

Beatrix, with the warm approbation of her brother, had 
determined to sit in the dock, beside Sybil. She, the falsely 
accused lady, should not go there unsupported by the pres- 
ence of another lady. 

“ Good-bye, Raphael ! good-bye, Miss Tabby ! I hope to 
be back this evening. Good-bye, dear little Cro’ ! Sybil 
will bring you something good, when she comes,’’ said Mrs. 
Berners, with all the cheerfulness she could command. 

But Raphael turned pale as death when he silently gave 
her his hand. 

Miss Tabby could not speak, for hysterical sobs. 

Little Cro’ cried outright. 

To shorten this trying scene, Mr. Berners drew his wife’s 
arm within his own and led her to the carriage. He had 
just settled her in the back seat, when little Nelly rushed 
past everybody, and ran up the steps, and crouched breath- 
less and palpitating at the feet of her mistress. 

11 


178 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


“ Yes ; let her stay, Lyou,” said Sybil, lifting the faithful 
little creature to her lap. 

Mr. Berners next helped Miss Pendleton to a seat beside 
his wife, then entered the carriage and took his place oppo- 
site Sybil, while Mr. Fortescue got in and sat down in the 
fourth seat, facing Beatrix. 

And Joe got his order to drive on towards Blackville. 

Scarcely a word was spoken for the first mile. It was 
Sybil who broke the silence. 

Will my counsel meet me at the court, Mr. Fortescue ? 
she inquired. 

“They are waiting for you, Madam. Mr. Worth has 
arrived, and is in earnest consultation with Mr. Sheridan,” 
gently replied Mr. Fortescue. 

“How long do you think the trial will last,. Mr. Fortes- . 
cue ? ” tremblingly inquired Sybil. 

“ It is quite impossible to form an opinion, madam,” re- 
plied the Sheriff. 

“ My dear Sybil,” said Lyon Berners, “ let us hope and 
trust that the trial will be short, and the result acquittal. 
Keep up your courage.” 

But he who gave her this advice found his own heart fast 
failing him. He could fearlessly have met his fate in his 
own person ; but in the person of his beloved wife — 

Fortunately for our unhappy party, it was not generally 
known that the accused lady would be put on trial this day; 
so when they drove into Blackville, they found no more than 
the usual little crowd about the hotel and the court-house. 

The carriage was drawn up before the last-named build- 
ing. 

The two gentlemen got out alid assisted their companions 
to alight. 

As they were about to enter the court-house, Sybil lifted 
her hand to draw her gray veil before her face ; but Beatrix 
stayed her. 

“ Do n’t do it, my dear Sybil. You have no reason to veil 


THE TRIAL FOR LIFE. 


179 


your face, or bend your head, or even lower your eyes, before 
the gaze of any one alive ! ” she said, proudly, for her 
friend. 

Sybil felt the force of these words, and indeed her own 
pride seconded their advice. 

I will take you first to my room, where your counsel are 
waiting to speak with you,’’ sai-d old Mr. Fortescue, draw- 
ing Sybil’s hand through his arm, and leading her, followed 
by her husband and her friend, into the sheriff’s office. 

Q^'liere they found Mr. Sheridan standing at a long table 
covered with green baize and laden with papers. 

With him w’as a gentleman whose grandeur and beauty 
of person and manner must have deeply impressed any be- 
holder, under any circumstances. ‘‘ The form of Apollo and 
the front of Jove,” had been said of him ; and if it had 
been added that he possessed the intellectual power of a 
Cicero, and shared the divine spirit of Christ, it would have 
been equally true. 

Mr. Worth, late of the Washington Bar, now admitted 
to practice here for your benefit, Mrs. Berners,” said Mr. 
Sheridan, presenting his colleague, after he himself had 
greeted the party. 

Sybil lifted her glance to meet the gaze of the pure, 
sweet, strong spirit that looked forth on her from Ishmael 
Worth’s beautiful eyes. 

Sybil Berners might have been presented to half the 
weak-minded kings and vain queens on their mouldering old 
European thrones, without the slightest trepidation ; but 
before this glorious son of the soil, this self-made man of the 
people, this magnate of the American Bar, this monarch of 
noble FTature’s crowning, this magnificent Ishmael Worth, 
her spirit bowed in sincere homage, and she lowered her eyes 
and courtsied deepl}', before she offered him her hand. 

Holding that little hand between his own, he spoke a few 
strong, reviving words to her. 


180 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


He told her, in the first place, that he had spent the 
whole night in making himself master of her case ; that his 
firm faith in her innocence would give him great power as 
her advocate ; that he would do his best for her sake ; but 
that while doing his best, the}’’ must lean on Divine Provi- 
dence for support and deliverance, who, in his own good time 
— later, if not sooner — would vindicate the innocent. 

And as he uttered these words, looking down in her face, 
he infused into her soul comfort and courage, and patience 
to meet the worst this first day of trial might bring. 

But no one knew better than Mr. Worth the almost utter 
hopelessness of the cause he had undertaken to defend ; and 
that was no small sacrifice for an eminently successful bar- 
rister like Ishmael Worth, who had never in the course of 
his professional career lost a single case, to withdraw him- 
self from his own bar and business, and take much trouble 
to get admitted to practice at another, for the sake of de- 
fending an utter stranger, in whose case there seemed not 
more than one chance in a thousand of success. 

But if there had not been even that one slight chance, 
still the magnanimity and tenderness of Ishmael Worth’s 
nature w'ould have brought him to the accused lady’s side, 
her defender to the death. 

Something like tliis passed through the mind of Lyon 
Berners as he grasped the hand of Mr. Worth, and warmly 
thanked him. 

And then the sheriff drew Sybil’s arm within his own to 
lead her on. Lyon Berners offered his arm to Beatrix 
Pendleton, and followed them. The counsel brought up 
the rear. 

Thus the little procession entered the courtroom. 

The presiding judge, Joseph Buthven, sat on the bench, 
with two associate judges, the one on his right hand, the 
other on his left. A few lawyers and law officers sat or 
stood around in groups. On the judge’s extreme right, a 


THE TRIAL FOR LIFE. 


181 


little below the bench, two long seats were occupied by wit- 
nesses for the prosecution ; on the extreme left was the 
jurj’-box ; in the intermediate space in front of the bench, 
^^ptood the prisoner’s dock, the witness’s stand, and the coun- 
sel’s tables. The remaining portion of the room, nearest 
the front doors, was filled up with the spectators’ seats. 
But very few spectators were present ; onl}’ some dozen 
villagers who had nothing better to do than to loiter there, 
and some score of farmers who had that morning come to 
market, and had dropped in to see what might be going on 
at the court. 

Great was their excitement when they saw Mrs. Berners 
led in by the sheriff, and followed by her friends. They 
had not expected her trial would come on so soon. Indeed, 
an absurd rumor had prevailed that she would not be 
brought to trial at all. But now here she was, sure enough, 
and they stared at her with dilated eyes and open mouths. 

Sybil impulsively put up her hand to drop her veil ; but 
remembering Beatrix Pendleton’s words, she refrained, and 
turned and swept her proud eye round upon the gazers, 
whose lids fell under her glance. 

She was not put into the dock, but offered a chair at the 
table with her counsel. She bowed to Use bench before 
taking her seat. On her right sat her husband ; on her 
left, her friend Beatrix Pendleton, near her counsel. She 
w'as very much agitated, but a pressure from the hand of 
her husband, a glance from the eyes of Ishmael Worth, 
helped to reassure her. 

Nor must the fidelity of another friend, a poor little four- 
footed friend, be forgotten. Little Nelly had faithfully 
followed her mistress, and now lay curled up at her feet. 

Meanwhile the preliminary forms of the trial proceeded. 
The jurymen were sworn in and took their seats. Then 
Mr. Sheridan touched his client’s hand to call her attention, 
while the clerk of arraigns, standing up with an open docu- 


182 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


ment in his hands directed the accused to listen to the read- 
ing of the indictment. 

Sybil raised her head and became attentive, while that 
officer read aloud the terrible instrument, setting forth tha^v 
Sybil Berners of Black Hall, in the county of Blank, 
being instigated thereto by diabolical agenc}’, did, with 
malice aforethought, on the night of the thirty-first of Octo- 
ber ultimo, feloniously break into the chamber of Eosa 
Blondelle, then residing at Black Hall, in the county of 
Blank, and there did unlawfully and maliciously stab, kill, 
and murder the said Kosa Blondelle, etc., etc., etc. 

During the reading of this indictment, charging her with 
a crime at once so base and so atrocious, Sybil’s emotions 
were all revolutionized. Ho longer unmerited shame and 
terror had power to bend her soul. The fiery spirit of her 
race arose within her ; the “ burning blood ” boiled in her 
veins; a fierce indignation flashed from her dark eyes, like 
lightning from a mid-night cloud ; bitter scorn curled her 
beautiful lips. 

When told to stand up, to hold up her hand, and to 
answer whether she were guilty or not guilty of the felony 
laid to her charge, she answered haughtily : 

‘‘Hot guilty, of course, as every one here knows, or should 
know. Ho more guilty than were many of the queens and 
princesses of old, who were martyred for crimes that we in 
these days know they never committed.” 

She had exceeded the forms of law, and said more than 
was necessary; but her heart was on fire, and* she could not 
help it ; and no one interrupted her. 

“ How will you be tried ? ” proceeded the clerk of 
arraigns, trying to avoid the beautiful, terrible eyes that 
were gazing on him. 

“ By God and — my peers, if indeed I have any peers 
here,” answered this arrogant young Berners, sweeping he-r 
full eyes scornfullj^ over the rustic occupants of the jury box, 
end then resuming her seat. 


THE TRIAL FOR LIFE. 


183 


Her words and manner did her no good ; their only effect 
upon the jury was to convince them that Mrs. Berners had 
inherited all the furious passions of her forefathers, and that 
she was an excessively high-tempered and high-spirited 
young lady, quite capable of doing a very rash deed. 

‘‘ Patience, patience, my dearest one,” whispered her hus- 
band, as he passed his arm behind her. 

“ I cannot be patient or prudent, Lyon, under such 
insults. I cannot, if they kill me,” she fiercely whispered 
back. 

Hush, hush,” he said, softly patting her shoulder. 

And then both became quiet, while the business of the 
trial proceeded. 

The State’s Attorney, Charles Goldman, took the bill of 
indictment from the hand of the clerk, and proceeded to 
open the case. Mr. Goldman was not the friend of the 
accused, neither was he her enemy. He did not belong to 
the old aristocracy of the State, neither had he distinguished 
himself in any manner. A successful lawyer he was, in so 
far as he had attained his present position, but no farther. 
He had never been admitted within the exclusive circles of 
Black Hall, or shared its hospitalities. And if this exclu- 
sion did not make him the enemy of the lady of that manor, 
it certainly did not embarrass him with any of those old 
associations of friendship and intimacy, such as might have 
distressed him, had he been, like nearly all the other mem- 
bers of the Blackville bar, the frequent guest of her father 
and her husband. 

Thus the State’s ^Attorney could deal with the lady of 
Black Hall, as he would deal with any other person on trial 
at that court. 

He opened the indictment, and gave the theory of the 
crime. Here was no complication, he said, and no uncer- 
tainty. The case was so clear, that it need occupy the court 
but a little time. He then, in a grand, eloquent, and' highly 


184 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


colored style, described the murder. He drew a moving pic- 
ture of the lovely 3mung victim, whose fair image many who 
were present, he said, would recall with tears of pity ; he 
described her accepting the invitation of the jealous mistress 
of Black Hall, and drawn within its dread doors, as a bird 
is enticed into the trap which is to be its destruction. He 
showed her on that fatal Hallow Eve reposing in her cham- 
ber, sleeping the sleep of innocence in fancied security. 
He painted, in lurid colors, the form of the murderess steal- 
ing down the stairs that led to her victim’s room, “ in the 
dead waste and middle of the night,” creeping to the inno- 
cent sleeper’s bedside, and plunging the fatal dagger in her 
peaceful, unsuspicious bosom. He described the startled 
look and cry of the victim, shocked from calm repose by a 
violent and bloody death ; the scene of confusion, horror, 
and terror that ensued ; the dying words of Rosa Blondelle, 
charging Sybil Berners with her death. He adverted to 
the guilty flight of the murderess and the desperate means 
she and her friends had taken even to the immolating of 
other lives, to secure her escape ; until at length, unable to 
hold out against the authorities any longer, she had surren- 
dered at discretion, and made a merit of giving herself up 
to justice. All this, he concluded, he should undertake to 
prove to the gentlemen of the jury. 

He then proceeded to call the witnesses for the prosecu- 
tion. The first witness called to the stand was — Sybil’s 
best friend. Captain Clement Pendleton of Pendleton Park. 

He came forward slowly, with a pale, stern face. He 
would rather have lost his power of speech, than have used 
it for her detriment. But he was known to have been 
present at the death of Rosa Blondelle, and he was there- 
fore subpenaed to attend the trial as a witness for the pros- 
ecution. 

Beiag duly sworn, he testified that he had been startled 
by loud screams from the room below his chamber ; and that 


THE TRIAL FOR LIFE. 


185 


on rushing down into that room, he had found Mrs. Bosa 
Blondelle bleeding from a wound in her chest, and sup- 
ported in the arms of Mr. Lyon Berners, who was in the 
act of bearing her across the room to the sofa, on which he 
then laid her. 

“Was there any one else in the room?” inquired the 
prosecuting attorney, seeing that the witness had paused. 

“ Mrs. Berners was there.” 

“ Describe her appearance.” 

“ She was very much agitated, as was quite natural.” 

“ Had she anything in her hand ? ” 

“ Yes,” answered Clement Pendleton, who never added 
a word against Sybil that he could honestly keep back. 

“Witness, you are here to tell the whole truth, without 
reservation. What was it that the prisoner held in her 
hand ? ” 

“A dagger — the dagger,” added poor Clement Pendleton 
recklessly, “ with which the unknown assassin had killed 
Mrs. Blondelle. 

“ Stay, stay ! we are going a little too fast here. Are 
you prepared to swear that you know, of your own knowl- 
edge, that some person other than the prisoner at the bar 
‘killed Mrs. Blondelle ? ’ ” 

Captain Pendleton was a soldier and no lawyer, yet he 
saw at once how his faith in Sybil’s innocence had led him 
to the false step of stating inferences for facts. So he 
explained : 

“ I spoke in accordance with my own firm convictions.” 

“ Ah, but I fancy your own conviction will not prevent 
that of the prisoner,” commented the State’s Attorney, 
with a grim humor. 

“And now. Captain Pendleton,” he continued, as you 
are sworn to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing 
but the truth, I must trouble you to answer the questions 
here put to you, by stating exactly such facts as came 
under your personal observation only.” 


186 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


And then he resumed the examination of the witness, 
and drew from him a relation of all the fatal circumstances 
that occurred in the library at Black Hall, on the night 
of the tragedy, among them the guilty appearance of Sybil 
Berners with the reeking dagger in her crimsoned hand, 
and the dying declaration of the murdered woman, charging 
Sybil Berners with her death. 

He would have gone on and told Sybil’s own explanation 
of her appearance, but was stopped there by the State’s 
Attorney, at whose request the presiding Judge instructed 
him that such declarations on the part of the accused, 
could not be received in evidence. 

And so he was told to withdraw. 

I will not weary my readers with any detailed account of 
this trial. A slight sketch of the principal points will be 
sufficient for our purpose. 

There were some half dozen more witnesses who had been 
present at the death of Bosa Blondelle, and who, being 
duly sworn, corroborated the testimony of Captain Pendle^ 
ton. 

Then the Scotch nurse, Jennie McGruder, was called to 
the stand. 

Her testimony bore very heavily upon the accused. 

She told how, on the night of the murder, she had, ac- 
cording to her custom, carefully searched both the bed 
chamber and the nursery that constituted Mrs. Blondelle’s 
apartments; that finding no intruder there, she had se- 
curel}^ fastened all the windows and all the doors of the two 
rooms, with the exception of the door leading to the stair- 
case communicating with Mrs. Berners’ apartments, which 
W’ere immediately above those of Mrs. Blondelle. This 
door was always left unfastened, as it was thought perfectly 
safe to leave it so. 

She told how, while she was with the child in the 
nursery that same night, she was startled by hearing pierc- 


THE TRIAL FOR LIFE. 


187 


ing screams from the adjoining bedroom ; that she had 
ruslied there in time to see the deceased Rosa Blondelle 
running wildly from the room, followed by the prisoner, 
Sj’bil Berners, who had a dagger in her hand. 

She also corroborated the testimony of the other wit- 
nesses as to the fatal words of the dying woman charging 
the prisoner with her death. 

After this witness came a number of ‘others who testified 
to the ill-feeling which existed between the prisoner and 
the deceased. 

These witnesses were all in turn severely cross-examined 
by the counsel for the defence, but, as the State’s Attorney 
had said, their testimony was so clear and simple that it 
W'as impossible to involve them in any self-contradiction. 

The State’s Attorney had also been very careful to call 
the attention of the jury to each condemning point of the 
fatal evidence against the accused. 

And here the examination of witnesses on the part of 
prosecution closed, and the court adjourned. 

Sybil was conducted into the sheriff’s room, where 
refreshments 'were provided by that kind-hearted officer for 
herself and her friends, and where everything possible was 
done and said to support her under the terrible ordeal of 
her trial. Being still under bail, as she would be to the 
end of her trial, she w’as then permitted to return home 
W'ith her friends for the night. 

One little touching event must be recorded here, as it 
showed the thoughtful tenderness of her nature. Even in 
the midst of her anguish of anxiety in regard to the awful 
issues in the result of this trial, she remembered baby Cro’ 
and his small interests ; and she stopped in the village to 
procure for him that “ something good ” which she had 
promised. 

But to do the orphan justice, he was gladder to see Sybil 
than to get what she brought him. 


( 


188 TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 

Miss Tabby caught her in her arms, and wept over her. 

Kaphael did not weep, nor even speak ; but he clasped 
her hands, and looked at her with a silent grief more elo- 
quent that words or tears. It was a period of agony to all 
concerned ; and Sybil was indebted to opium for all the 
sleep she got that night. 


CHAPTER XV. 

THE VERDICT. 

’Tis not ever 

The justice and the truth o’ th’ question carries 
The due o’ th’ verdict with it. — Shakespeaeb. 

At an early hour the next morning the court was opened, 
the Judges resumed their seats, and the accused was con- 
ducted back to her place. 

Ishraael Worth opened for the defence. 

I shall not even attempt to give so much as an epitome 
of his speech. I should never be able to do justice to the 
logic, eloquence, pathos, and power of his oratory. I shall 
only indicate that the points upon which he dwelt most 
were, the magnanimous nature of his client, which rendered 
her utterly incapable of committing the atrocious crime 
with which she stood charged ; the fatal fallibility of cir- 
cumstantial evidence, which he illustrated by direct refer- 
ence to many recorded cases, well-known to the legal pro- 
fession, in which parties had been convicted and executed, 
under the strongest possible circumstantial evidence, and 
had afterwards been discovered to have been guiltless ; the 
facility wdth which a murderer might have concealed him- 
self in that bedroom occupied by the deceased on the night 
of the murder, have eluded the search of the sleepy nurse, 
and after committing his crime, being frightened by the 


TlTE VERDICT. 


189 


screams of his awakened victim, should have escaped 
through the window and slammed the shutter to, from the 
outside, when it would fasten itself with its spring bolt ; 
the perfect naturalness of the circumstance that the accused, 
on hearing her guest scream, should have flown down those 
communicating stairs to her assistance, and should have 
drawn from her wounded bosom the dagger left there by the 
flying murderer. This, and much more than can even be 
touched upon here, he said, and then proceeded to call wit- 
nesses for the defence. 

These were some of the old friends and neighbors of the 
accused lady, who warmly bore witness to the generosity and 
nobility of her nature, which placed her in their estimation 
so far above the possibility of committing a crime so 
heinous. 

Then came the white servants of her household, who 
described the situation of Eosa Blondelle’s rooms on the first 
floor of Black Hall ; the easy entrance into them from the 
grounds below, and the insecure spring fastenings of the 
windows, which might be opened from without by a thin 
knife passed under the latch and lifted. 

All felt how small the amount of material was, out of 
which even the most learned and eloquent advocate could 
make a defence for Sybil Berners. 

The examination of the witnesses for the defence closed. 

Mr. Sheridan then made his last effort for his client, and 
was followed by Mr. Worth, both of whom exerted their 
utmost faculties in the hopeless cause of their unhappy 
client. 

But ah ! no eloquence of theirs, of any one’s, could do 
away with the damning evidence against the accused lady. 

The State’s attorney, in a final address to the jury, pointed 
out this fact, and then sat down. 

The venerable Judge Joseph Rutliven arose to sum up 
the evidence and charge the jury. We know that he be- 


190 TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 

lieved in the innocence of the pure and noble young lady, 
■whom he had known from her earliest infancy. Such a be- 
lief under such circumstances must have swayed the judg- 
ment and affected the action of the justest judge under the 
sun. 

Judge Buthven palpably leaned to the side of the prisoner. 
After summing up the evidence for the prosecution rather 
briefly and coldly, he urged upon the jury the value of a 
good name in the case of an accused party ; the excellent 
name of the accused lady ; the unreliability of circumstan- 
tial evidence ; the fallibility even of the testimony of the 
dying, when such testimony was given in the excitement of 
terror and the agony of death ; of how such testimony, 
however sincerely given and believed in, had often been 
utterly disproved by subsequent events ; and finally, that if 
a single doubt, however slight, remained in their minds of 
the guilt of the prisoner, it was their bounden duty to give 
her the benefit of that doubt by a full acquittal. And so, 
praying Divine Providence to direct their counsels, he dis- 
missed them to deliberate on their verdict. 

The jury left the room in charge of a sheriff’s officer. 

And then the tongues of the spectators were loosened. 
The charge of the judge had given great offence. 

“ It amounts to a positive instruction to the jury to acquit 
the prisoner ! ” fiercely whispered one malcontent. 

“ And when the testimony has so clearly convicted her 1 ” 
added another. 

“Nothing but partiality! He and her father were old 
cronies,” put in a third. 

“A partial judge ought to be impeached!” growled a 
fourth. 

And so on the disapprobation rumbled through the court- 
room in thunder, not loud, but deep. 

And then all became still as death. 

Meanwhile the judge sat calmly on the bench, the only 


THE VERDICT. 


191 


evidence of his strongly suppressed anxiety was the extreme 
paleness of his venerable face. What was passing in his 
mind during this time of awful stillness and waiting, in 
which the earth seemed arrested in her orbit, the sun stopped 
in his course ? The dread question, should he, with more 
than Koman courage, be obliged to pass sentence of death 
on that child of his old friend, that young high-born, refined, 
and beautiful woman, whom from the depths of his soul he 
believed to be perfectly innocent ? 

Meanwhile Sybil Berners, her face bloodless, her frame 
almost pulseless, breathless as with suspended animation, 
leaned upon her husband’s breast and waited for the verdict 
that was to give her life or death. 

Both pale as herself, hej? husband and her friend sat, the 
first on her right side and the second on her left, as they sit 
by the dying, supporting her as best they might, her hus- 
band’s arm around her waist, her friend’s hand clasping 
hers. 

The hour wore slowly on. The room grew dark. But 
the judge did not adjourn the court. He thought, most 
likely, it was better for all concerned to end the agony that 
night if possible. 

At length the lamps were lighted, and their beams fell 
upon the pallid group of friends, upon whom the doom of 
death seemed already to have descended ; and further on, 
upon the ^‘sea of heads ” that now filled the court-room and 
— waited for the verdict ; for the crowd had greatly increased 
since the commencement of the trial. 

At length the hush of silence was stirred by a motion near 
the door of the jury-room. 

Sybil’s wear3^ head still rested on her husband’s bosom ; 
he gatiiered her in a closer embrace, that she might not look 
up until she should be compelled to do so. 

She was too inexperienced to know what that little stir 
that moved the stillness meant. 


192 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


The door of the jury-room was thrown open by the 
deputy-sheriff, and the jury filed into the court, and stood 
in a group near the bench. 

All hearts stood still. The face of the venerable judge 
turned a shade paler. 

The clerk of arraigns arose, and addressing the jury, in- 
quired : 

Gentlemen of the jury, have you agreed upon your 
verdict ? ” 

We have,” solemnly answered the foreman, on the part 
of his colleagues. 

Prisoner, stand up and look upon the jury,” proceeded 
the clerk, addressing Sybil. 

“ Rise, my darling, rise ! ” said the heart-broken husband 
of the lady, as he helped her to her feet. 

Sybil stood up, still leaning on his arm. 

“ Look on those men there ! ” whispered Lyon Berners. 

Where? Where?” inquired S^’bil, in perplexity, for 
the court-room was but dimly lighted, and her brain was 
half dazed with horror. 

There, my darling, there I ” muttered Lyon^ Berners, 
pointing to the jury. 

“ Prisoner, look upon the jury ! ” repeated the clerk. 

Sybil turned her glazing e3^es towards the group. 

Jurymen, look upon the prisoner!” continued the 
clerk. 

They looked, and some among them must have seen that 
the doom the}’’ were about to pronounce in verdict 

could never be carried into effect. 

The clerk proceeded. 

“ How sa}" jmu, gentlemen of the jury ; is the prisoner at 
the bar guilty or not guilty of the felony laid to her 
charge ? ” 


CONDEMNED. 


193 


CHAPTER XVL 

CONDEMNED. 

And in that deep and utter agony. 

Though then, than ever, most unfit to die, 

I fell upon my knees and prayed for death. — Matuein. 

Guilty ! ” 

The word tolled like a knell through the air. 

Silence like death followed. 

Some one passed to the judge a glass of water. His hand 
shook so that he spilled it. 

Then he arose, trembling so much that he leaned for 
support on the stand before him. Yet he did his duty — the "v 

last duty he was ever to do on that bench. 

‘‘Prisoner at the bar, stand up.’’ 

She was raised to her feet, and supported in the arms of 
her husband. 

“ Sybil Berners ! What have you to say why sentence 
of death should not be pronounced against you ? ” 

Nothing. She had not understood the question. She 
did not answer it. There is a point in suffering at which 
the soul becomes insensible of it. While waiting for the 
verdict, Sybil had gradually passed into an abnormal state, 
which, without being a dream, resembled one. Her spirit 
w^as snatched away from the present scene. She was in the 
village church, and not in the court-room. The Judge on 
the bench was her old pastor in his pulpit. He was preach- 
ing, she thought; but something ailed her head, for she 
could not understand the drift of his discourse. And the 
church was so crowded, that she felt half-suffocated in it. 

Amid the breathless, pulseless silence, the doom of death 
was spoken. 

Not one word of it all did Sybil comprehend, But she 

12 


194 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


felt as if the evening service was over, and the people were 
rising to leave the church. 

“Come, Lyon,” she breathed, with a deep sigh, “it is 
over at last, and oh ! I am so tired ! Take me home.” 

Take her home ! Alas for the heart-broken husband ! 
He would have given his own body to be burned to death, 
if by doing so he could have taken her home. But he 
knew that, in all human probability, she could never go 
home again. 

“One moment, darling,” he whispered, and sat her down 
again to await the action of the sheriff. 

Mr. Bortescue soon came up. 

“ Mr. Berners,” he said, in a broken voice, “ I am an old 
man, and I had rather die than do my present duty.” 

“ Oh, do what must be done, do it at once, do it yourself, 
for no one else would do it so kindly,” answered Lyon 
Berners. 

“ You know where I must take her ? ” 

“ Certainly.” 

“ Then draw her arm through your own and follow me. 
She will go more quietly with jmu than with me,” said the 
sheriff. 

They had spoken in a very fow tone, in order to spare 
Sybil, though they scarcely needed to have taken the pre- 
caution ; for she was paying no attention to anything 
that was passing around her. She sat leaning hack, with a 
look of utter weariness and stupor on her beautiful, pale 
face. 

He raised her up, drew her hand through his arm, and 
whispered : 

“ Come, my darling, we are going now.” 

This roused her a little. She looked around for her 
party, and saw Beatrix Pendleton sitting with her face 
buried in her handkerchief, as she had sat since the render- 
ing of the verdict, 


CONDEMNED. 


195 


“ Look, she is asleep. I do n’t wonder ; it is very tire- 
some, and I ’m almost asleep myself,” murmured Sybil, 
wearily gazing on her fwend. 

At that moment Captain Pendleton came up. 

Wake her, Clement, and bring her after us. You will 
both come home and take supper with me,” said Sybil, as 
she was about to be led away. 

Captain Pendleton did not answer her, but gazed on her 
as if his heart was about to break. 

Do n’t look at me so, Clement. You must think I am 
sick ; but I am not — only tired and stupid. I hope Tabby 
will have supper ready when we get home,” said Sybil, with 
a faint smile, as the}^ led her off. 

Captain Pendleton followed quickly, and touched Lyon 
Berners on the shoulder. 

They exchanged glances. 

“ Oh, Heaven ! Is this so ? ” whispered the captain, 
with a glance towards Sybil. 

“ It is so,” answered Lyon Berners. 

This affliction added to all the rest ! ” 

“ It is better, much better thus. She does not suffer 
now. Thank Heaven for this veil of insanity drawn 
between her and the horrors to come ! Pray heaven that 
she may never come to her senses wl^ile she lives in this 
world,” muttered Lyon Berners. 

Captain Pendleton stepped back and gave his sister his 
arm. 

“ You will go with her to the prison ? ” he inquired. 

Yes, and stay with her there, if I may be permitted,” 
answered Beatrix, who was weeping bitterly. 

‘‘My dear, m}’’ noble sister! how I admire and thank 
you ! ” fervently exclaimed Clement Pendleton, as he led her 
after Sybil. 

A storm had been gathering all the afternoon. It had 
not been noticed by the people, whose attention had been 


196 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


swallowed up in the absorbing interest of the trial. But 
now, as they reached the open doors, the storm burst in 
thunder on the air, and the rain fell in torrents. 

Many of the people retreated into the court-room to wait 
until the weather should be clear, or they should be able to 
procure umbrellas. 

But our unhappy party went boldly out into the rain. 

Sybil’s carriage had been waiting, as on the preceding 
evening, to take her home. It was to be employed now to 
take her somewhere else. 

“ I am glad of* this storm,” said Mr. Berners, after he 
had put his wife into her seat, and while he was holding 
the door open for Beatrix, whom her brother had just led 
up. “ I am very glad of this storm.” 

“ Why ? ” inquired Captain Pendleton. 

“ Because it will enable me to humor the delusion of my 
poor Sybil.” 

‘‘ How ? ” 

“ By persuading her that the storm makes it necessary for 
us to stop at the house of an acquaintance,” hastily 
explained Lyon Berners, as he put Beatrix into the seat 
next Sybil. 

Then he took the third seat and Mr. Portescue, as the 
custodian of Sybil, took the fourth. 

Captain Pendleton mounted the box beside the coach- 
man, who had received his directions where to drive, but 
who could scarcely see his way, for weeping. 

The storm came down in fury. The lightning glared, 
the thunder rolled j the rain swept the mountain sides like 
a flood. 

“We shall never be able to reach Black Hall to-night, 
my darling.** We must stop at some house,” said Lj'on 
Berners, artfully. 

“ Yes ? that ’s bad,” answered his wife, who with an evi- 
dent eflbrt roused herself to reply, and then sank back into 


CONDEMNED. 


197 


her seat, in an attitude of weariness, and began slowly to 
pick at the fringe of her parasol, in an absent-minded, quiet 
manner. 

The county prison was at the lower end of the village, at 
the junction of the Black river and Bird creek. It was a 
plain, rude structure, built of the iron-gray stone dug from 
the quarries of the Black mountain. It did not look like a 
prison. But for the grated windows it might have been 
taken for a commodious country house. And but for its 
well-cultivated grounds and stone fence, it might have been 
taken for a store-house. It comprised within its four walls 
the home of the warden and his family, as well as the lodg- 
ings for the turnkeys, and the cells of the prisoners. 

Old Father Martin, the warden, found his office almost a 
sinecure. There were never many inmates of the prison, at 
any period. And sometimes for months together it would 
be quite vacant, so that in rainy weather its corridors and 
cells would be the play-ground of the warden’s grandchil- 
dren. 

Now however, there were some ten or twelve petty offend- 
ers confined there, who were waiting trial for such compar- 
ativel}’’ small offences as disorderly conduct, assault, etc. 

\ Sybil had never in her life seen even the outside of this 
prison. 

So when the carriage drew up before the outer gate, and 
Mr. Berners alighted and handed her out, and said that they 
would be obliged to stop here at Mr. Martin’s until the 
storm should be over, she silently acquiesced, and permitted 
herself to be led, under the shelter of the sheriff’s umbrella, 
up to the door of the building. 

At the sheriff’s ring, it was opened by the turnkey in 
attendance. 

The sheriff immediately led his prisoner into the warden’s 
office. 

They were followed by Mr. Berners and the two Pendle- 
tons. 


198 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


was expecting of this here,” said the warden, as he 
drew forward a cliair for the lad}’’. 

Sybil sank into it, weary, stupefied, apathetic, and utterly 
unconscious of her real situation. 

Beatrix Pendleton sat down by her side and took her 
hand. Lyon Berners hung over the back of her chair. The 
little Skye terrier, who had followed the party, jumped upon 
her lap and coiled itself up there. Sybil noticed no one, but 
sat curiously contemplating the tips of her gloved fingers. 

Meanwhile the sheriff and the warden went off to a writ- 
ing desk that stood in one corner of the office, and where the 
sheriff formally delivered up his charge into the keeping of 
the warden. 

“ You will find some decent place to put her in, I hope, 
Martin. You will extend to her every indulgence consis- 
tent with her safe custody,” said the sheriff, when the busi- 
ness was concluded. 

The old warden scratched his gray head, reflected for a 
minute, and then said: 

The cells is miserable, which I have represented the 
same to their worships time and again, to no purpose. But 
if you ’ll take the responsibility, and back me up into doing 
of it, I can lock her up in m}’’ daughter’s bedroom, where 
she will be safe enough for one night; and to-morrow we 
can have a cell fixed up, if her friends will go to the ex- 
pense.” 

Certainly, do all that ; and if you should be as kind and 
considerate of her as may be consistent with your duty, her 
friends will be sure to reward 3 ’ou handsomely,” answered 
Mr. Fortescue. 

“ Well, I’d do that an}’’ way, 1 think, for any poor woman 
in such a depth of trouble, reward or no reward,” replied the 
kind-hearted warden. 

The two men then went up to the young prisoner. 

“ I will take you up to your room now, ma’am, if you 
please,” said the warden. 


CONDEMNED. 


199 


This aroused Sybil. She looked up suddenly and said : 

I am afraid we are putting you to much inconvenience 
Mr.— Mr.— ’’ 

Martin,’^ added the sheriff. 

“ — Mr. Martin; but the suddenness of this thunder- 
storm, you know. And we were all at church, and — 

She lost the connection of her ideas, ceased to speak, put 
her hand to her forehead in perplexity for a moment, and 
then relapsed into apathetic reverie. 

“ Good gracious ! ” exclaimed the old warden, in dismay. 

Why, she’s a losing of her mind, an’t she ? ” 

^‘Yes, thank Heaven!” answered Sybil’s husband ear- 
nestly. 

“ But — but — in such a case they will never carry the 
sentence out ? ” inquired the warden, in an eager whisper. 

“Yes, they will; but she will never know what hurts 
her,” grimly replied Captain Pendleton. 

The old warden sighed. And then he warned the visitors 
that it was time for them to go, as he wanted to lock up the 
prison for the night. 

“ Is it not possible that I remain with my wife to-night ? 
You see her condition,” said Lyon Berners, appealing to the 
sheriff and the warden, and pointing to poor Sybil, whose 
wildly dilated eyes were fixed upon vacancy, while her 
fingers idly played with the gray curls of the little Skye 
terrier on her lap. 

“ Mr. Berners, my heart bleeds at refusing you anything 
in this hour of bitter sorrow ; but — ” began the sheriff. 

“ I see ! I see ! You cannot grant my request ! I 
should have known it, and refrained from asking,” inter- 
rupted Lyon Berners. 

At this point Beatrix Pendleton, who had been sitting 
beside Sybil, deliberately took off her gloves, bonnet, and 
lace shawl, and laid them on a table near, saying quietly : 

“ I shall stay with mj^ friend. Mr. M-iriin, I don’t think 


200 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


you will turn me out in the storm to-night. And, Mr. 
Sheriff, I knoio that women-friends are often permitted to 
be in the cell with women prisoners.” 

“ Miss Pendleton,” said the sheriff, before the warden 
could speak, “ tliere is not the slightest objection to your re- 
maining with your friend, if you please to do so. Women 
in her sad position are always allowed a female companion 
in the cell. It is usuall}’-, however, a female warder.” 

“ Thank you, Mr. Fortescue ! I will be Sybil’s warder, 
or her fellow-prisoner, as you please, that is, with Mr. Mar- 
tin’s consent. He has not spoken yet,” said Beatrix, ap- 
pealing to the warden. 

“ My dear young lady, I would no more turn you out in 
the storm, as you call it, than I would turn my own daugh- 
ter out. Of course you will stay if you please , though, 
bless mj" heart, the trouble is usually to keep people here, 
not to send them away. They come unwillingly enough. 
They go away gladly,” said the old man. 

“ My dear Beatrix, you do well ! you do nobly ! ” whis- 
pered her brother, pressing her hand. 

Miss Pendleton, how shall I thank you ? May the 
Lord, who makes up all our shortcomings, reward you infi- 
nitely ! ” said Lyon Berners, fervently pressing her hand. 

“I think we had better end this interview now,” whis- 
pered the sheriff. 

Lyon Berners turned to look at his wife. She was still 
sitting in the same dreamy, abstracted, unconscious 
manner. 

“ Sybil, my darling, good-night,” he said, stooping and 
kissing her. 

‘‘ Why,” she exclaimed, with a nervous start, where are 
you going?” 

“ Listen, dear,” said Lyon, gently. “ Mr. Martin has got 
but one spare ruom, and that must be appropriated to you 
and Beatrix. Clement and myself will have to find ac- 
commodations somewhere in the village.” 


CONDEMNED. 


201 


Oh,” she said. And then, “Yes.” And so she re- 
lapsed into apathy. 

L^’on Berners kissed her, and turned away to conceal 
the tears that rushed to his ej’es. 

Captain Pendleton pressed her hand in silence. And 
then the}’- both took leave of Miss Pendleton, and went 
away with the sheriff. 

Sybil and Beatrix were left alone with a warden in the 
office. 

Mr. Martin had been the overseer of Pendleton Park in 
old Mr. Pendleton’s time ; and he owed his present position 
as warden of the county prison mainly to the influence of 
Captain Pendleton. So that he was well acquainted with 
Miss Pendleton, whom he had every grateful reason for 
serving. 

Pie came to her now, saying apologetically : 

“I am sorry I can’t offer my old emploj^'er’s daughter 
better accommodation j but I will give her the best room in 
tlie house.” 

“ Thank you, Mr. Martin ; but I wish to stay in the roll 
with my friend,” answered Beatrix. 

“ My dear young lady, I thought you understood that 
you were to stay with her, but not in a cell ; I thought you 
knew that you were to occupy a room together. But oh I 
now I recollect, it was only with the sheriff that I talked 
of it,” explained the old man; and as he spoke the door 
opened, and a middle-aged woman appeared, and said : 

“ Father, the room is ready.” 

“Come, then. Miss Pendleton, follow us,” said the war' 
den, as he took Sybil’s hand, drew it under his arm, and 
walked on before. 

He led them up a flight of stairs to a good-sized and 
neatly furnished bed-chamber, with nothing about it to re- 
mind its inmates that they were in a prison. 

Here the warden, after seeing that the windows were 


202 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


carefully secured, left the friends together, taking the pre- 
caution to double lock and bolt the door upon them. 

Beatrix turned to look at her companion. Sj^bil was 
sitting twirling her fingers, and gazing down on the little 
dog that lay upon her lap. 

“ Come, darling ! ’’ said Beatrix, tenderly, let me help 
jmu to undress. That bed looks clean and comfortable. 
You must lie down on it and go to sleep.” 

Sybil made no answer, and no resistance. Beatrix un- 
dressed her, and then remembered that they had no per- 
sonal conveniences for the night whatever, neither bed- 
gowns nor combs nor brushes ; but the weather was warm, 
and so some of these necessaries might well be dispensed 
with until the morning. 

She led Sybil to the bed, and urged her to lie down. But 
the force of habit was omnipotent; and in spite of her 
waning sanity, Sybil suddenly recollected a duty never 
omitted, and said : 

Let me say my prayers first.” 

So she knelt down. 

Beatrix Pendleton waited and watched for some time, for 
so long a time, at last, that she suspected Sybil had fallen 
asleep. She went and looked at her attentively, and then 
called her by name, and touched her, and so finally discov- 
ered that she had, in the midst of her prayers, relapsed into 
that fearful lethargy that was undermining her reason. 

“ Come, Sybil, dear, get into bed,” said Beatrix, taking 
her hand and lifting her up. 

“Yes,” said the docile creature, and immediately did as 
her friend directed her. 

There was no surer or sadder symptoms in Sybil’s insan- 
ity, than the perfect docility of her who had once been so 
difficult to manage. 

She went quietly to bed. 

Beatrix prepared to follow her. 


THE MERCIFUL INSANITY. 


203 


But Miss Pendleton was faint from long fasting. Neith- 
er she nor Sj^bil bad tasted anj’thing since their luncheon 
at two o’clock that day, when the court had taken a recess. 
They had reached the prison sometime after supper had 
been served ; and in tlie awful crisis of Sybil’s fate, no one 
had thought of food. Sybil did not seem to require it ; she 
lay in a quiet lethargy, like death. But Beatrix was half- 
famished when she went to bed. 

Her hunger, however, was soon forgotten in the great 
anxiety of her mind j and the sharpest point of it was 
this : 

What effect would the night’s repose have on Sybil’s 
st'ite ?, Would it bring back her lost senses, and with 
them the consciousness of her awful condition ? Beatrix 
prayed that it might not — prayed that the shield of insan- 
itj^ might still cover her from the surrounding and impend- 
ing horrors of her position. 

At length both the friends fell asleep, and slept until 
nearly nine o’clock the next morning. 


CHAPTER XVIL 

THE MERCIFUL INSANITY. 


Every sense 

Had been o’erstrung by pangs intense, 

And each frail fibre of her brain, . 

(As bowstrings when, relaxed by rain, 

The erring arrow launch aside.) 

Sent forth her thoughts all wild and wide. — B ybon. 


They were awakened bj' the drawing of bolts and turn- 
ing of locks outside their door, and by the voice of the war- 
den, sajdng : 

Go in, Kitty, and see if they are up. I will stay out- 
side and guard the door.” 


204 


TKIED FOR HER LIFE. 


And then the same middle-aged widow whom they had 
seen on the previous night entered the room. 

Beatrix being fully awakened, turned anxiously to look 
at her friend. 

Sybil was lying also wide awake, but very quiet. 

“What sort of a place is this, Beatrix?’’ she inquired, 
and then immediately relapsed into lethargy, as if she had 
forgotten her question. 

“ Thank Heaven ! ” fervently exclaimed Sybil’s friend, 
“ she is still shielded.” 

“ Which of you two ladies is in for it ? ” inquired the 
warden’s daughter, coming forward. 

“We are both ^ in for it,’” answered Beatrix, a little 
scornfully, “ and one of us is about as guilty as the other.” 

“ Oh, I did n’t know that,” muttered the woman, who 
took the lady’s words in good faith. “ I did n’t know there 
was more than one concerned ; but what I meant to ask 
was, which is Mrs. Berners? Because there is a trunk 
come for her, which father thinks it contains clothes and 
other necessaries that she may need at once.” 

“ Very likely. Let your father push it through the door, 
and I will see to itSv contents. And oh ! for Heaven’s sake, 
my good woman, let us have some breakfast as soon as pos- 
sible,” entreated Miss Pendleton. 

The woman promised to comply with her request, and 
left the room. 

The trunk was pushed in, and the door closed, locked, 
and bolted again. 

Beatrix went to examine the consignment. There was a 
letter directed to Mrs. Berners, unsealed and tied to the 
handle, together with the key of the trunk. 

Beatrix took both off and carried them to her friend, say- 
ing “ Here is the key of a box that has come for you, and 
here is a letter, dear Sybil, from your husband, I suppose j 
will you read it ? ” 


THE MERCIFUL INSANITY. 


205 


Sybil opened the letter, gazed at it with dreamy eyes, 
and followed the lines with her glances, but without taking 
in their meaning. 

Sad enough this would have seemed to Miss Pendleton at 
any other time ; but now, every evidence of her friend’s 
failing mind was welcome to her, and to all who loved the 
unhappy young wife. 

“Shall I read it for you, dear?” inquired Beatrix, ten- 
derly, taking the letter from her hand. 

“ Yes, read it,” answered Sybil, rousing herself, for an 
instant, to some little interest in the matter, and then sink- 
ing back into indifference. 

Beatrix read aloud. The letter was only an earnestly 
affectionate greeting from the husband to the wife, telling 
her that he had sent her a box of needful articles, and that 
he himself would come to see her as soon as the doors should 
be opened to visitors. It was a cautiously written letter, so 
worded as to humor her hallucination, in case she should still 
imagine herself to be in a country house instead of the 
county prison. 

As Beatrix ended each sentence, she looked around to see 
if Sybil was listening. 

Ah ! no ; after the first few lines had been read, her at- 
tention w'andered, and at the end of the note she astonished 
the reader, by sajdug : 

“ I am very thirsty, Beatrix.” 

“ Then, dear, let me help you to rise and dress ; and you 
shall have some tea. They are rough people we are stop- 
ping with, so I requested them to bring our breakfast up 
here,” said Miss Pendleton, artfully, and laying aside the 
note. 

Sybil submitted to the services of her friend. And then 
for the first time Beatrix noticed that in this victim’s case 
physical weakness was now added to mental infirmity. 
Body and mind were both failing together. “Well, so 
best,” thought Sybil’s true friend. 


206 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


By the time they were both dressed, there was another 
sound of turning locks and drawing holts, and then the 
warden’s daughter brought in the tray of breakfast, while 
the warden himself stood outside on guard. 

Notwithstanding the awful situation, both these young 
women were able to take a little breakfast — poor Sybil be- 
cause she was quite insensible of the horrors of her position, 
and Miss Pendleton because, with all her sorrowful sympa- 
^ thy for her companion, she had the appetite of a healthy 
young woman who had been fasting some eighteen hours. 

Soon after the breakfast was over and the service cleared 
away, Mr. Berners came. Again bolts and bars were 
drawn, and the husband was ushered in by the warden to 
see his wife. 

Lyon Berners shook hands with Beatrix Pendleton, and 
then passed at once to Sybil, who sat in a state of reverie 
on the side of her bed. 

“ You have come for me at last, Lyon ? ” she said. 
“ The people here are very kind, but I am very glad j^ou 
have come, for I want to go home.” 

Dear Sybil,” he replied, embracing her, and humoring 
her delusion. “You are not well enough to go home j’etj 
you must stay here a little longer.” 

“ Yes,” she said, looking up for a moment, and then 
relapsing into silence and reverie. 

Mr. Berners exchanged a glance with Miss Pendleton. 

At the same moment the warden put his head in at the 
door, and beckoned Mr. Berners to come out into the 
passage. 

“ Well,” inquired the latter, when he was outside. 

“ Well, sir,” said the warden, “ you know she must go 
into a regular cell to-day. I can ’t help it. I wish I could. 
I pity the poor lady ! I do ! I pity her, whether she did 
it or not ! And I can ’t help that either ! So please the 
Lord, I ’ll do all I can to comfort her and her friends, con- 


THE MERCIFUL INSANITY. 


20T 


sistent with my duty to the higher powers. So come along, 
sir, if you please, and I HI show you a corridor where there 
is no other prisoner now confined, and you can choose the 
best cell for her yourself.” 

Lyon Berners bowed and followed his conductor across 
the broad passage and down another one which was at 
right angles with the first. Here all the cells were vacant. 
The warden unlocked several for inspection. 

The last cell opened was at the north-east angle of the 
building. It was twice the size of the others, and had, 
beside its door, two narrow grated windows — one on the 
north, looking out upon the Black river, and the other on 
the east, upon Bird creek. 

Here, sir, now, is a large, cool, well-aired cell, where we 
used to confine as many as a half a dozen prisoners together, 
when we was full. But as you see, there is nobody at all 
in all this corridor. So we can put her in this, and if you 
like to go to the cost of having it scrubbed and white- 
washed, wh}", I’ll have it done this morning. Likewise, if 
you would wish to put in a comfort or two, in way of furni- 
ture, there ’ll be no objection to that neither. There ’ll be 
no objection to nothing that don’t interfere with her safe 
keeping, you understand, sir ? ” 

“Yes, I understand and thank you. Pray, have every 
article of this furniture removed, have the room thoroughly 
ventilated and cleansed, and while you are doing that I will 
go up to Black Hall, and send down all that is necessary to 
make this room decent for my poor wife. Heaven grant 
that it may prove her death-room ! ” added the heart-broken 
husband to himself. 

The warden promised compliance with all these requests, 
and then the two returned to Sybil’s room. 

“ I must leave you, dear, now, for a few hours, but I will 
certainly be back at the end of that time,” said Mr. Ber- 
ners, caressing his enfeebled wife as he took leave of her. 


208 


TBIED FOR HER LIFE. 


In the course of that day, the large north-east cell was 
transformed into as clean and comfortable a bed-room as 
money and labor could make it. The floor was covered 
with straw matting, the windows shaded with white muslin 
curtains. 

Besides the fresh bed and bedding, there was a small 
bureau, a washstand, a toilet set, book-table, writing-desk, 
dressing-case, and work-box ; a guitar, with some music, 
and a small choice collection of books. 

All these comforts were collected there as much for Miss 
Pendleton’s sake as for Sybil’s. 

The room did not look in the least like a prison-cell, nor 
was there any legal necessity that it should. 

It was late in the afternoon when Sybil and her devoted 
friend were transferred to the new quarters. 

What is this for ? ” inquired Sybil, rousing herself a 
little, when she found she was about to be removed. 

Oh, you know, dear, that we have been sleeping in the 
daughter’s room, and keeping her out of it, and now she 
wants her own, and so they have fixed up another one for 
us,” said Miss Pendleton, soothingly, as she drew her 
friend’s arm within her own and led her on after the warden, 
who walked before them with a large bunch of keys in his 
hand. 

“ Wliy, here are all my things!” said Sybil, startled to 
unusual interest by the sight of her personal efiects arranged 
in the new cell. 

“ Yes, dear,” whispered Miss Pendleton, as she put Sybil 
gently down into the rocking-chair — ‘‘ yes, dear. You 
know Lyon fears that it will be some time before you are 
able to go home, and these people are too poor to make you 
comfortable, so he sent these things for them to fix up this 
room for you.” 

Beatrix,” said Sybil, putting her hands up to her 
temples. 


THE MERCIFUL INSANITY. 


209 


“ What is it, dear ? ” 

My head is very bad/^ 

Does it ache ? ” 

‘‘No ; but it is so queer; and I have had a horrid dream 
— oh ! a horrid, ghastly dream ; but I can ’i recall it.” 

“ Do n’t try, my darling ; you took cold in the storm last 
night, and you are not well now; so turn your thoughts 
away from your disagreeable dream, and fix them upon 
something else,” said Beatrix soothingly, although at heart 
she was very much alarmed, as it was probable that the sight 
of her favorite little effects had started a train of associations 
that might bring her back to perfect sanity and to utter 
agony. 

At that moment, too, there was a diversion. Lyon Ber- 
ners entered the cell, bringing in a basket of fruit and 
flowers. 

“ From your own garden and conservatories, my dear 
Sybil. Until you are well enough to go home, you must 
have some of your home comforts brought here,” he said, as 
he set the elegant basket down on a stand, and went and 
embraced her. 

“ Yes ; thank you very much, dear Lyon. When do you 
think I will be w^ell enough to go borne ? ” she asked, and 
then, without giving the slightest attention to her husband’s 
affectionate answer, she dropped at once into a deep and 
dreamy state of abstraction. 

Miss Pendleton beckoned Mr. Berners to come to her at 
one of the windows. 

“ What is it ? ” inquired Lyon, anxiously. 

“ She came very near a consciousness of her position just 
now, when she first recognized her property, but the peril 
passed away. And now we must be very careful to foster 
this merciful insanity that shields her from misery. And 
as one precaution, I wish you would ask the warden to oil 
these rusty bolts and bars, and make them work noiselessly. 
13 


210 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


She has never noticed that she is locked and bolted in, and 
I wish her never to notice it, or to suspect it.” 

‘‘Thanks, a thousand thauks, dear Beatrix ! I will follow 
your suggestions,” said Mr. Berners, warmly grasping her 
hand. 

Then the warden turned to the visitor, and told him that 
the hour had come for locking up the prison for the night. 

Mr. Berners went back to his wife and took an affection- 
ate leave of her. 

She let him go, with even less of opposition than on the 
preceding evening, for it seemed as if her fitful rise towards 
sensibility had reacted in a deeper fall into apathy. 

Lyon Berners returned to his desolate home. Among all 
who were affected by the condemnation of Sybil Berners, 
there was none who suffered such agony of mind as that 
which nearly drove her husband to frenzy. If Sybil’s terri- 
ble trials and unspeakable sorrows had resulted in a mild and 
merciful insanity, that vailed her mind from any knowledge 
of the deep horrors of her position, Lyon’s utter anguish of 
spirit had stung him to a state of desperation that incited 
the wildest schemes and the most violent remedies. 

As he lay tossing in his sleepless bed each night, he felt 
tempted to go and seek out that hand of outlaws, and to 
bribe them to the half of his fortune to make a night 
attack upon the prison, and forcibly rescue his beloved 
wife. 

There was, however, a serious objection to this plan ; for 
besides its unlawfulness and its uncertainty of success, it was 
impracticable, from the fact that no one— not even the most 
experienced thief-catchers — had been able to find the lost 
clue to the retreat of the robbers. Since their flight from 
the ruined house, four months previous, they had never been 
heard of. 

Sometimes, as Sybil’s husband lay groaning in anguish 
on his pillow, he was strongly tempted to procure some drug 


THE MERCIFUL INSANITY. 


211 


that would give her a quick and easy death, and save her 
fro-m the horrors to come. 

But Lyon Berners resisted this dark temptation to com- 
mit a deadly sin. 

More frequently still, when his agony seemed greater 
than he could bear, he would feel a desperate desire to put a 
period to his own wretched existence. 

But then came the devoted spirit that whispered for her 
sake he must live and suffer, as long as she should have to 
live and suffer. 

All these dark trials and temptations tortured Lyon Ber- 
ners in those sleepless, awful nights he spent alone in his 
desolate home. 

But in the morning, when he would go and visit Sybil in 
the prison, he not only exerted all his mental powers of self- 
control, but he called in the aid of powerful sedative drugs 
to produce the calmness of manner with which he wished to 
meet his wife. 

Meanwhile, as the days passed, Sybil sank deeper and 
deeper into apathy. 

Her hallucination w'as now complete. She imagined that, 
in company with her husband and their friends, she had 
been at church one Sabbath afternoon, when a tremendous 
storm of thunder, lightning, rain, and wind came up, and 
that they had all been obliged to take refuge in a country 
house for the night, and that she herself had been taken ill 
from the exposure, and had to remain there until she could 
get well enough to go home. As the days passed and the 
hallucination grew, she lost all count of time, and always 
thought that she had arrived “last Sunday,” and was going 
home “ to-morrow ! ” 

Miss Pendleton was permitted to remain with her, and 
Mr. Berners was allowed to^visit her every day. 

So some weeks had passed, when one day a terrible event 
occurred. 


212 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


It was early in the morning : the prison doors were just 
opened for the admission of visitors, and Lyon Berners had 
just entered the lower hall, on his way to the warden’s 
office, to get that old man to conduct him to Sybil’s cell, 
when he was overtaken and accosted by the sheriff : 

On your way to your wife, Mr. Berners ? That is well. 
She will need you at this hour,” said Mr. Fortescue, after 
the usual morning greeting. 

“ What is the matter ? ” inquired Lyon Berners hurriedly, 
and in great alarm. 

“For Heaven’s sake, compose yourself now! You will 
need all your self-possession, for her sake, as well as for 
your own. Come into the warden’s office with me. He also 
must go with us to her cell.” 

In great distress of mind, Mr. Berners followed the sheriff 
into the warden’s office. 

Old Mr. Martin, who was at his desk, came to meet the 
visitors. 

“ One moment, Martin. I will see you in one moment. 
Just now, I wish to speak to Mr. Berners,” said the sheriff, 
as he drew Lyon Berners aside. 

“ What is it now ? ” inquired Sybil’s husband, in an 
agony of alarm for her sake. 

“ Can you not surmise ? ” compassionately suggested the 
sheriff. ^ 

“ I — Oh, great Heaven ! — I dare not ! ” he exclaimed, 
throwing up his hands and clasping his head. 

“ You must know that the petition sent up to the Governor 
for her pardon has been returned with an adverse decision.” 

“ I feared it I Oh, heaven 1 ” 

“ Oh, try to be firm 1 I must now tell you the worst. 
The petition did not come down alone — ” The speaker 
paused an instant, and then added gravely and compassion- 
ately : 

“ There was another document came down with it — a 
document that I must read to her.” 


THE MERCIFUL INSANITY. 


218 


The death warrant ! ” 

Lyon Berners uttered these words with such a groan of 
anguish and despair as seemed to have rent his soul and body 
asunder as he reeled and caught at the window frame for 
support, and then dropped into a chair by its side. 

“ Mr. Berners, for her sake ! for heaven’s sake ! bear up 
now ! Martin, a glass of brandy here ! quick ! ” 

The warden, who always kept a bottle on his desk, hur- 
riedly filled a tumbler half full of brandy, and hastened up 
with it. 

“ Drink it ! drink it all ! ” said the sheriff, putting the 
glass into Mr. Berners’ hand. 

Lyon Berners drank the strong and fiery spirit, feeling it 
no more than if it had been water. 

A few moments passed, during which Mr. Berners strug- 
gled hard for self-control, while the warden in a low voice 
inquired : 

“ What is it ? ” 

“ The death warrant ! ” 

As the sheriff whispered these awful words, the warden 
clasped his hands, saying fervently : 

^^Now may the Lord help them both 

Then the sheriff turned to Mr. Berners, who had again 
sank upon a chair, and was still striving to recover himself, 
and he kindly inquired : 

“ Are you read^^ now to go with us to her cell ? She will 
need your support in this trying hour.” 

Heaven give me strength ! Yes, I am ready ! ” said 
Mr. Berners. 

And the ministers of fate went to take the death warrant 
to the cell of Sybil Berners. 


214 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


CHAPTER XYIIL 

HOW SYBIL RECEIVED HER DEATH WARRANT. 

She looked on many a face with vacant eye, 

On many a token without knowing what; 

She saw them watch her without asking why, 

And recked not who around her piilow sat. — Btbon. 

The warden unlocked the door and entered the cell, fol- 
lowed by the sheriff and Mr. Berners. 

Sybil was dressed, but lying on the outside of her bed. 

Beatrix was sitting beside her, engaged in some light 
needle-work. 

“ She is very feeble both in mind and body to-day,” said 
Beatrix, in answer to an inquiring look of Mr. Berners, as 
she arose to give him her seat by the bedside. 

How are j^ou this morning, love?” inquired Mr. Ber- 
ners, tenderly taking her hand. 

Oh ! I am better ! Shall we go home to-morrow, 
Lyon?” 

If it please Providence, dear,” answered her husband, 
putting a strong constraint upon himself. But he saw that 
though she had asked the question, she scarcely heard his 
answer ; her attention had wandered from the point, and 
she was idly pulling the curly-haired ears of her little dog, 
who lay coiled up beside her. 

Meanwhile Mr. Fortescue had shaken hands with Miss 
Pendleton, and was now saying : 

Beatrix, my child, you had better retire from this scene 
for a few moments.” 

Why ? ” inquired Beatrix, looking her old neighbor 
firmly in the face. 

“ Because I have a very painful duty to perform, which 
will be very distressing to you to witness.” 

What is it ? ” inquired Miss Pendleton, without remov- 
ing her eyes from his face. 


THE DEATH WARRANT. 


215 


The sheriff stooped and told her in a whisper. 

She turned pale as death, caught her breath, and leaned 
for an instant on the table near her. Then, with a supreme^ 
effort, she stood up and said : 

“ You have known me from my childhood. Do you think 
me such a dastard as to desert my friend in the hour of heit 
utmost need ? No, Mr. Fortescue ; I will stand by Sybil 
to the last. So do your duty ! Thank Heaven, you cannot^ 
hurt her much ! ” 

“ Thank Heaven indeed, if that is so, Beatrix,” answered 
the sheriff, as he made a sign to Mr. Berners, and ap- 
proached the bed with the death warrant in his hand. 

“Sybil, darling,” whispered her agonized husband, “here 
is Mr. Fortescue come to see you.” 

“ Has he ? that is kind,” she answered, looking curiously^ 
at her own fingers, and then forgetting the presence of her 
visitors. 

“ How are you, Mrs. Berners ? ” inquired the sheriff. 

I am better. I am going home to-morrow, and then 
you must come and — ” She broke off suddenlj’’, and began 
to feel about with her fingers over the white counterpane. 

“ Good Heaven ! ” exclaimed the sheriff, looking up into 
Mr. Berner’s face. 

Lyon Berners gravely bent his head. 

The sheriff hesitated, as if uncertain how to proceed. 

Mr. Berners came to his side and whispered : 

“If you must read that document to her, be merciful 
and read it now^ when her mind is dulled to its meaning.” 

The sheriff nodded, and then said : 

“Mrs. Berners, I have something to read to you. Can 
you listen ? ” 

“Yes. Is it interesting?” inquired Sybil, rousing her- 
self. 

Without answering that last question, the sheriff pre- 
pared to read the awful instrument of doom. Lyon Bur- 


216 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


ners sat down on the side of the bed, and drew his wife^s 
head upon his bosom. 

Miss Pendleton sat pale and still as a statue. 

The old warden stood with his eyes bent upon the floor. 

Sybil roused herself to listen, and she heard the first few 
lines of preamble addressed to the sheriff, but after that her 
attention wandered beyond control ; and at the conclusion, 
she slightly smiled, and turning to her husband, said : 

Lyon, be sure to come early to-morrow. I want to go 
home in the cool of the morning.^^ 

Yes, dear, I shall be here very early,” answered Mr. 
Berners as steadily as he could speak, with his heart break- 
ing. 

Then laying her gently back on her pillow, he touched 
the sheriff on the shoulder and beckoned him to follow to 
the window. 

You see,” said Mr. Berners, as they stood side by side, 
looking out. 

“I see. I am very much shocked. This should be 
looked into. A medical examination should be made. 
Another appeal should be sent to the governor. Has Mr. 
Worth returned to Washington ? ” 

‘‘ No ; he has been waiting the issue of the petition to 
the governor.” 

“ Then I advise you to see and consult him without loss 
of time. Do it now ; this morning,” urged the sheriff, as 
he took up his hat and gloves to leave the cell. 

He went to Sybil’s bedside to take leave of her. 

Good-morning, Mrs. Berners,” he said, holding out his 
hand. 

Good-morning, Mr. Fortescue. Thanks for your call. 
When you come again — ” she began smilingly, but lost the 
connection of her ideas, and with a look of distress and per- 
plexity she sent her fingers straying over the counterpane, 
as if in search of something. 


THE DEATH WARRANT. 


21T 


With a deep sigh the sheriff left the cell. 

And at the same time Ljon Berners quietly kissed his 
wife, and withdrew. 

Mr. Berners went at ’once to the hotel where Ishmael 
Worth lodged. 

On inquiry at the office, he found that Mr. Worth was in 
his room. Without waiting to send up his name first, he 
desired to be immediately shown up to Mr. Worth’s 
presence. 

He found the young lawyer sitting at a table, deeply im- 
mersed in documents. He was about to apologize for his 
unceremonious intrusion, when Mr. Worth arose, and with 
grave courtesy and earnest sympath}’’, informed his visitor 
that he had already heard, with deep sorrow, the adverse 
decision of the governor. 

Mr. Berners covered his face with his hand for a moment, 
and then sank into the chair placed for him by Mr. Worth. 

As soon as he had recovered himself, he entered upon the 
subject of his visit — the insanity of Sybil, and the use that 
might be made of it in gaining a respite that should pro- 
long her life for some months, until perhaps she might be 
permitted to die a natural death. 

Her state, as you represent it, gives me hopes of ob- 
taining not only a respite, but a full pardon,” said Ishmael 
Worth, when Mr. Berners had finished his account. 

I scarcely dared to hope as much as that,” sighed Mr. 
Berners. 

I must speak now from the law’s point of view. You 
and I believe that, sane or insane, Mrs. Berners never com- 
mitted that murder. But the jury says she did. Now if 
she can be proved to be insane at this time, her present in- 
sanity will ‘argue a foregone conclusion;’ namely, that 
she was insane at the time she is said to have committed 
the crime ; and if insane, then she was therefore irresponsi- 
ble for her action, and unamenable to the laws. Let this 


218 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


be satisfactorily proved, and properly set before the gov- 
ernor, and I have little doubt that the result will be a full 
pardon.” 

“ You give me hope, where I thought hope was impos- 
sible. If we can only obtain this pardon, and get my 
dear wife out of her horrible position, I will take her at 
once to some foreign country, where, far from all these 
ghastly associations, she may live in peace, and possibly 
recover her reason, and wdiere she may have some little 
share of earthly happiness even yet,” sighed Lyon Ber- 
ners. 

And if it can be shown that there has been insanity in 
her family, it will make our argument much stronger. Has 
such ever been the case ? ” earnestly inquired Ishmael 
Worth. 

“ Ah, no ! unless the most violent passions roused at 
times to the most ungovernable fury, and resulting in the 
most heinous deeds, can be called insanity, there is none in 
her family,” said Mr. Berners sadly, shaking his head. 

That is also insanity certaiul}^,” said the philosophical 
Ishmael Worth, “but scarcely of the sort that could be 
brought forward in her favor.” 

“ Nor is it the type of her present mental malady, which 
is very, very gentle.” 

“ However, we have ground enough to go upon. Our 
case is very strong. We must lose no time. The first step 
to be taken will be to procure an order to have the lady ex- 
amined by physicians competent to form a judgment, and 
make a report upon her condition. Their report must go 
up to the governor, with the petition for her pardon. And 
now, Mr. Berners, if you will go home and seek the rest 
you need, and leave this business in my hands, I w'ill set 
about it immediately,” said Ishmael Worth, kindly. 

“ Thank you ! I thank you from my soul ! I will con- 
fidently leave her fate in your hands. I know I could not 


THE DEATH WARRANT. 


219 


leave it in any better under heaven ! But, tell me, when 
shall I see you again ? 

“ To-morrow morning, after your visit to the prison, you 
can call here if you please, and I shall be able to report 
some progress,’’ said Mr. Wortli, rising from his chair. 

Lyon Berners then shook hands with him, and left the 
room. 

iNot to go home and rest, as he had been advised ; there 
w’as no rest for Sybil’s husband; there could be none now; 
he went to wander around and around her prison walls un- 
til the day declined and the sky darkened, and then indeed 
he turned his steps homeward, walking all the way to 
Black Hall, because in his mental excitement he could not 
sit still in carriage or saddle. There he passed the night 
in sleeplessness and horror. Imagination, favored by the 
darkness, the stillness, and the loneliness of the scene, con- 
jured up all the ghastly spectres of the future, impending 
tragedies, and nearly drove him into frenzy. He started 
up from his bed and walked out into the summer night 
under the shining stars, and wandered up and down the 
wooded banks of the river until morning. 

Then he returned to the house, and after a hasty break- 
fast, wLich for him consisted only of a cup of very strong 
coffee, he set out for Blackville. 

He reached the prison before its doors were open to visit- 
ors, and he waited until he could be admitted. He found 
Sybil placid, peaceful, and unconscious of imprisonment and 
deadly peril of her life, as she had ever been. He spent an 
hour with her, and then he went to the hotel to see Mr. 
Worth. 

He found the young lawyer in good spirits. 

“ I have made much progress, Mr. Berners. I succeeded 
in procuring the order for the medical examination. It is 
appointed for to-morrow at ten o’clock. Dr. Bright, Dr. 
Hart, and Dr. Wiseman are the physicians authorized to 


220 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


make it. They have all been notified, and are to meet at 
the prison at the hour specified,” said Ishmael Worth, as he 
shook hands with his visitor and offered him a chair. 

Lyon Berners warmly expressed his thanks, and sank 
into the seat. 

“ You look very ill, Mr. Berners ; you look as if you had 
not slept for many nights. That will not do. Let me be 
your physician for once, as well as your lawyer. Let me 
advise you to take opium at night. You rmist sleep, you 
see.” 

“ Thanks ; but I think my malady beyond the help of 
medicine, Mr. Worth, unless it were something that should 
send me into the eternal sleep,” said Lyon Berners, mourn- 
fully. 

‘‘Come, come; take courage! We have every reason to 
believe that this medical examination will result in such 
a report as, sent up to the governor with the new petition, 
will insure her release. And then you will carry out your 
purpose of going with her to some foreign country. Gay 
Trance, beautiful Italy, classic Greece, good old England, 
are all before you where to choose,” said Ishmael Worth, 
cheerfully. 

Then they spoke of the three physicians who were to 
conduct the examination : Dr. Bright, who had once had 
charge of the State Insane Asylum, but who had recently 
retired to his plantation in this neighborhood ; Dr. Hart, 
who was the oldest and most skilful practitioner in the 
county, having attended more families, and first introduced 
more children to their friends and relations, than any other 
man in the place ; and lastly, Dr. Wiseman, the village 
druggist, who had taken his degree, and was also physician 
to the county prison. 

• “ Dr. Hart has attended S^^bil’s family for nearly half a 
century ; he has known Sybil from her earliest infancy ; his 
visit will not alarm her, though, for that matter, nothing 


THE EXAMINATION. 


221 


alarms her now, not even — ” He did not finish the sen- 
tence ; he could not bear to utter the words that would have 
completed it. 

Soon after he arose and took his leave. And he passed 
the day and night as he had passed the last and many pre- 
vious days and nights. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

THE EXAMINATION. 

Alas how la it with you ? 

That you do bend your eye« on vacancy. 

And—— Bhakebpeare. 

The next morning he was early as usual at the prison, 
and as usual he had to wait until the doors were opened. 

The news of the impending medical examination of the 
prisoner had been conveyed to the warden on the preced- 
ing afternoon. The prisoner and her companion had been 
notified of it this morning, so that when Lyon Berners was 
admitted to the cell he found the place in perfect order, and 
Sybil and Beatrix carefully dressed as if for company. 

^‘See! we are all ready to receive our visitors, Lyon. 
And oh ! I am so glad to be at home again, and to give a 
dinner party ! Like old times ! Before we went on our 
wedding tour, Lyon ! ” 

These were the first words Sybil addressed to her hus- 
band, as he entered the room. 

Lyon Berners drew her to his bosom, pressed a kiss on 
her lips, and then signed to Miss Pendleton to follow him 
to the window. 

‘^What does all this mean, dearest Beatrix?” he in- 
quired. 

“If means that her insanity is increasinec. She awoke 


222 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


this morning, perhaps with some dream of home still linger- 
ing in her mind ; at all e 7 ents, with the impression that she 
was at Black Hall. I have not combated the pleasant de- 
lusion ; indeed 1 have rather fostered it.’^ 

You were right, dear friend. You know of this in- 
tended visit of the physicians ? ’’ 

“ Oh, yes ; and so does she, only she fancies that they are 
to he her guests at a dinner party 

As Beatrix thus spoke, there was a sound of approaching 
footsteps in the corridor, and the cell door was again opened 
to admit Dr. Hart. 

The good physician shook hands with Mr. Berners, who 
stood nearest the door, and whispering hastily ; 

I wish to speak with you apart presently,” he passed 
on to meet Sybil, who, with the courtesy of a hostess, was 
coming forward to welcome him. 

He shook hands with her pleasantly, and inquired after 
her health. 

“ Oh, thanks ! I am very well since I got home. I took 
cold. Where did I take cold ? ” she said, with an air of 
perplexity, as she passed her thin white hand through her 
silken black tresses. 

“ You have been travelling, then ? ” said the doctor, to 
try her memory. 

“ Yes ; travelling.” 

And saw many interesting sights, no doubt ? ” 

I — yes ; there were caves — the Mammoth Cave, you 
see ; and ships in the harbor ; and — and — ” A look of 
doubt and pain passed over her, and she became silent. 

And many, many more attractive or instructive objects 
met your sight, no doubt? ” 

“ Yes ; we were in England just before the Conquest, 
arid I saw Harold the Saxon and Edith the Fair. But 
‘Fair’ was ‘foul ’ then— rso foul that the Spirit of Fire con- 
sumed her Oh ^ • 


THE EXAMINATION. 223 

She paused, and an expression of horrible anguish con- 
vulsed her beautiful face. 

“ But you are at home now, my child,” said the doctor 
soothingly, laying his hand upon her head. 

“ Oh, yes,” she answered, with a sigh of deep relief as 
her countenance cleared up ; “ at home now, thank Heaven ! 
And oh, it is so good to be at home, and to see my friends 
once more. And then again, you know — ” 

Whatever she was going to say was lost in the ehaos of 
her mind. She sighed wearily enough now, and relapsed 
into profound reverie. 

The doctor took advantage of her abstraction to leave her 
side, and beckon to Mr. Berners to follow him to the 
farthest corner of the cell, so as to be out of hearing of the 
two ladies. 

What do you think of her case ? ” anxiously inquired 
Sybil’s husband, as soon as he found himself apart with the 
physician. 

“ She is deranged of course. Any child could tell you 
that. But, Mr. Berners, I called you apart to tell you that 
myself and my colleagues. Bright and Wiseman, deter- 
mined to visit our patient singly, and to make a separate 
examination of her. How, for certain reasons, and among 
them, because I am a family practitioner, we all agreed that 
I should pay her the first visit. And now, Mr. Berners, I 
must ask you to go and find out if there is an experienced 
matron about the house j and if so, to bring her here imme- 
diately.” 

Lyon Berners bowed and went out, but soon returned 
with the warden’s widowed daughter. 

Here is Mrs. Mossop, doctor,” he said, introducing the 
matron. 

How do you do, madam? And now, Mr. Berners, I 
must further request that you will take Miss Pendleton out 
and leave Mrs. Mossop and myself alone with our patient,” 
said the doctor. 


224 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Mr. Berners gave Miss Pendleton his arm and led her 
from the room. 

One of the under-turnkeys locked the door and stood on 
guard before it. 

Mr. Berners and Miss Pendleton walked up and down 
the corridor in restless anxiety. 

“ My brother was here to see me yesterday afternoon, 
Lyon,” she said. 

But Mr. Berners, absorbed in anxiety for his wife, 
scarcely heard the young lady’s words, and certainly did 
not reply to them. 

But Beatrix had something else to say to him, and so she 
said it : 

Lyon, if you should succeed in getting Sybil’s pardon, 
(pardon for the crime she never committed!) and should 
decide to take her to Europe, do you know what Clement 
and myself have determined to do ? ” 

“ No,” said Mr. Berners, with a weary sigh. 

We have decided to go abroad with you and share your 
fate ; whether we go for a year or two of pleasant travelling 
and sight-seeing, or whether we go into perpetual exile.” 

Lyon Berners, who had been almost rudelj’’ indifferent to 
the young lady’s words until this moment, now turned and 
looked at her with astonishment, admiration, and gratitude, 
all blended in the expression of his fine countenance. 

‘‘ Beatrix ! No ! I appreciate your magnanimity I And 
I thank you even as much as I wonder at you ! But you 
must not make this sacrifice for us,” he said. 

Miss Pendleton burst into tears. 

Oh ! ” she said amid her sobs, there can be nothing in 
the world so precious to us as our childhood’s friendships ! 
Clement and I have played with Sybil and you since we were 
able to go alone ! We have no parents, nor sisters, nor broth- 
ers, to bind us to our home. We have only our childhood’s 
friends that have grown up with us — you and Sybil. 


THE EXAMINATION. 


225 


Clement will resign his commission in the army ; he does 
not need it, you know, any more than his country now needs 
him ; and we will let the old manor house, and go abroad 
with you 

But, dear Beatrix, to expatriate yourselves for us ! ” 

Oh, nonsense!” she said, brushing the bright tears 
from her blooming face. “ You are trying to make this out 
an act of generosity on our part. It is no such thing. It 
is a piece of selfishness in us. It will be a very pleasant 
thing, let me tell you, to go to Europe, and travel about and 
see all the old historic countries, for a year or so.” 

A year or so ! Oh, Beatrix ! it will not be a year or 
so, of pleasant travelling I It will be the exile of a life- 
time 1 ” 

“ I do n’t believe it ! I have more faith than that ! I 
believe that 

* Ever the right comes uppermost. 

And ever is justice done; ’ 

sooner or later, you know ! And anyhow Clement and my- 
self have resolved to go abroad with you and Sybil ! And 
you cannot prevent us, Mr. Berners 1 ” 

“ I am very glad that I cannot ; for if I could, Beatrix, I 
should feel bound by conscience to do it.” 

“ Set your conscience at rest, Mr. Berners ! It has nothing 
to do with other people’s deeds ! ” 

“ But, dear Seatrix, you are reckoning without your host, 
Destiny, which now means the report of the medical exani- 
iners and the action of the governor upon it ! She may not 
be free to go to Europe.” 

“ I think she will,” said Beatrix, cheerfully. 

At that moment there was a knock from the inside of the 
cell. 

The turnkey unlocked the door. 

Dr. Hart came out alone, and the door was locked after 
him. 


w 


226 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Mr. Berners left the side of Beatrix, and went to meet 
the physician. 

“Well?” inquired Sybil’s husband. 

“ My dear sir, hope for the best. She has yet to be visited 
by my colleague, Dr. Bright, late of the State Insane 
Asylum. He is, of course, an expert in cases of insanity. 
His report will have more weight than mine in regard to 
her case. But I tell you this in confidence. I ought really 
not to give any sort of opinion to any one at this point of 
the investigation.” 

And with a friendly shaking of hands and a polite bow, 
Dr. Hart went below. 

A few minutes passed, and Dr. Bright, who was a stranger 
to Mr. Berners, came up and passed to the door of the cell, 
which was opened for him by the turnkey in attendance. 

The “ mad doctor,” as he was popularly called, remained 
more than an hour shut up with his patient. 

At length he came out, bowed to the lady and gentleman 
that he saw waiting in the corridor, and went down stairs. 

Mr. Berners would have given much for the privilege of 
questioning the “mad doctor;” but as such a privilege 
could not be obtained at any price, he was forced to bear 
his suspense as well as he could. 

In a few moments Dr. Bright was succeeded by Dr. Wise- 
man, the least important of the three medical examiners. 

He saw Mr. Berners, came right up to him and grasped 
his two hands with both his own, and with the tears spring- 
ing to his eyes, exclaimed : 

“ I hope to heaven our examination of this lady may 
eventuate in her release from captivity.” 

There was something in the delicacy of the physician’s 
words, as well as in the earnestness of his manner, that 
deeply affected Sybil’s husband. He pressed the young 
doctor’s hands as he replied : 

“I thank you very much for your earnest sympathy; 


THE EXAMINATION. 


^227 


and I need not say how devoutly I join in your prayer that 
this investigation may terminate in the release of my dear 
and most' innocent wife.” 

The physician then passed into the cell, which was open- 
ed for his admittance, and then closed as before. 

A half hour went by, and he came out again. 

“ 1 do not know what conclusion my colleagues have come 
to, Mr. Berners ; but for myself, I do not think this lady is, 
or has been for some time, a responsible agent,” he said, in 
passing Sybil’s anxious husband. 

“ You hold your consultation immediately ? ” inquired 
Mr. Berners. 

Yes, immediately, in the warden’s private parlor, which 
Mr. Martin offered for our use,” answered Dr. Wiseman, as 
he bowed and went down stairs. 

Mr. Berners and Miss Pendleton were then permitted to 
return to Sybil’s cell, to remain wdth her while waiting the 
result of the ph3"sicians’ consultation. 

They found Sybil so fatigued from the visits that had 
been made her, that she lay quite still and almost stupefied 
upon her bed. 

Mrs. Mossop w^as watching by her side ; but at the en- 
trance of Mr. Berners and Miss Pendleton she arose and 
left the cell. 

Lyon went to the bedside of his wife, and asked how she 
felt. " 

Tired.” 

This was the only word she spoke, as with a heavy sigh 
she turned her face to the w’all. 

Lyon and Beatrix sat with her all the afternoon, and 
even until the warden came to the door wuth the informa- 
tion that the physicians had concluded their consultation, 
and were about to leave the prison, and that Mr. Worth 
was below, waiting to see Mr. Berners. 


228 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


CHAPTER XX. 

THF LAST EXPEDIENT. 

’Tis late before 

The brave despair. — Thompson. 

Lyon then took an aifectionate leave of his half-con- 
scious wife, shook hands with Miss Pendleton, and with a 
heart full of anxiety went down stairs. 

He met Ishmael Worth coming out of the warden’s 
office. 

“ The physicians have gone,” said the young lawyer, 
after greeting Mr. Berners — “just gone; but they have left 
a copy of their report, the original of which they will have 
to deliver under oath. That original document will have 
to go with the petition to the governor, which I mj^self will 
take up to Richmond to-morrow.” 

“ Thanks ! thanks ! ” exclaimed Mr. Berners, pressing 
the young lawyer’s hand with deep emotion. 

“ And now, shall we adjourn to my chambers and exam- 
ine this report ? ” 

“ Yes, if you please ! But can you not give me some 
idea of its character ? ” 

“ It is favorable to our views. That is all I know. We 
can soon make ourselves acquainted with the whole matter, 
however,” said Ishmael Worth, as they left the prison and 
walked rapidly off in the direction of the village. 

As soon as they were both closeted together in Mr. 
Worth’s chamber, with the door closed and locked to keep 
off intruders, the young law3'er broke the seal of the en- 
velope, and they examined the report together. 

But ah ! that report, though favorable to the prolonga- 
tion of Sybil’s life, was not conducive to its preservation. 

The physicians reported the imprisoned lady as having 


THE LAST EXPEDIENT. 


229 


been carefully examined by themselves and found to be in- 
sane. But they gave it as their unanimous opinion that 
her insanitj’’ was not constitutional or hereditary : that it 
was not of long standing, or of a permanent character ; that, 
in fine, it was the effect of the terrible events of the last few 
months acting upon a singularly nervous and excitable or- 
ganization, rendered even more susceptible by her present 
condition, which was that of pregnancy. 

At this word Lyon Berners started, threw his hands to 
his head, and uttered a cry of insupportable anguish. 

Ishmael Worth laid his hand soothingly, restrainingly 
upon him, saying : 

Be patient ! Even this circumstance, sad as it seems, 
may save her life. We do not ‘ cut down the tree with 
blossoms on it.’ This report, as I said, must go up with the 
petition to the governor. The petition prays for her full 
pardon on the grounds set forth in this report. The gov- 
ernor may or may not grant the full pardon, but if he does 
not, he must grant her a respite until after the birth of her 
child. Thus her life is sure to be prolonged, and may, 
probably will, be saved. For if the governor does not par- 
don her, still in the long interval afforded by the respite, we 
may, with the help of Providence, be able to discover the 
real criminal in this case, and bring him to justice j and 
thus vindicate her fame, as well as save her life.” 

‘^You give me hope and courage; you always do,” an- 
swered Lyon Berners, gratefully. 

‘‘ I only remind you of what you yourself know to be facts 
and probabilities ; and would recognize as such, but for the 
excitement and confusion of your mind. And now, do you 
know what I mean to do ? ” 

Mr. Berners gravely shook his head. 

mean to leave for Kichmond by to-night’s stage-coach, 
taking with me the original attested medical report and 
the petition for her pardon. I mean to travel day and night, 


230 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


SO as to lay the documents before the governor at the earliest 
possible moment. And as soon as he shall have acted upon 
them I shall leave Richmond for this place, travelling day 
and night until I bring you her pardon or her respite.'^ 

‘‘ How shall I thank you ? What words can express how 
much — ” began Mr. Beruers, with emotion ; but Ishmael 
Worth scarcely heard him. He had stepped across the room 
and touched the bell-pull. 

‘^Send my attendant here,” he said to the waiter who 
appeared at the door. 

A few moments elapsed, and a venerable old negro man 
of stately form and fine features, with a snow-white head and 
beard, and dressed quite like a gentleman — a .sort of an ideal 
Roman senator carved in ebony, entered the room, bowed, 
and stood waiting. 

Be so kind as to pack ray portmanteau, professor. I go 
to Richmond by the night’s coach.” 

“The “professor” bowed again, and then respectfully 
inquired : 

“ Do I attend you, sir ? ” 

“No, professor. I must travel day and night without 
stopping. Such haste would be too harassing to a man of 
your age.” 

The old servitor bowed, and withdrew to obey. 

“ He,” said Ishmael Worth, pointing affectionately to the 
retreating form of the professor, “ is not only my faithful 
attendant, but my oldest and most esteemed friend.” 

“ He is happy in possessing’ your esteem and friendship, 
Mr. Worth, and no double he deserves both,” said L^'on 
Berners. 

“ He deserves much more,” murmured Ishmael softly, 
wuth one of the old, sweet, thoughtful smiles shining in his 
eyes. 

Then Mr. Berners, who would have liked to linger longer 
near this sympathizing friend, who was working so zealously 


THE LAST EXPEDIENT. 


231 


in the almost liopeless cause of his imprisoned wife, saw that 
the 3’oung lawyer had many preparations to make for his 
sudden journej", and hut little time to make them in ; and 
so he arose and shook hands wdth Ishmael Worth, and bade 
him God-speed in his humane errand, and left the room. 

Mr. Berners returned to his most desolate home ; took, by 
his physician’s advice a powerful narcotic, and slept the sleep 
of utter oblivion, and waked late on the next morning more 
refreshed than he had felt for many weeks past. 

He visited his w'ife as usual, and found her in the same 
quiescent state of mind and body and still utterly unconscious 
of her situation, utterly ignorant that within a few days past 
the dread death warrant had been read to her, which doomed 
her young life to die in the beautiful month of June, now so 
near at hand — in the blooming month of roses, her favorite 
of all the twelve. 

Yes, the death warrant had been duly read to her, but 
not one word of it all had she understood ; and that was all 
that had been done to inform her of her real situation. If 
it was an}’- one’s duty to impress the truth upon her mind, 
provided her mind could be made capable of receiving the 
impression, every one shrunk from it, and prayed that to 
the last she might never know more of her condition than 
she now did. 

As for the rest — the preparation of her soul to meet her 
Judge — what would have been the use of talking about 
salvation to a poor young creature driven to insanity by the 
horrors of a false accusation and an unjust conviction ? 

The best Christians, as well as her nearest friends, were 
willing to leave her soul to the mercy of Heaven. 

She was even unsuspicious that she was destined to be a 
mother. 

This circumstance, that so deepened the pathos and terror 
of her position, also invested her with a more profound and 
pathetic interest in the eyes of her husband. 


232 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Would she live to bring forth her child, even though the 
governor did spare her life so long ? he asked himself, as 
he gazed fondly on her pale face and sunken eyes. 

Would the child — perhaps destined to be born in the 
prison — live to leave it ? And then, what must happen to 
the mother ? And what must be the after life for the 
child ? 

And fondly as he loved, he earnestly prayed that both 
mother and child might die in the impending travail unless 
— unless the new petition sent up to the governor, and 
grounded upon the report of the physicians, should get her 
a full pardon. 

Tour days of the keenest anxiety crept slowly by. 

There was no possible means of hearing how Ishmael 
Worth prospered in his mission to the governor. 

There were but two mails a week from Richmond to 
Blackville. 

Ishmael Worth would go and come with all possible 
speed, for he must be his own messenger. 

It was on the morning of the fifth day, since the young 
lawyer departed on his humane errand. 

Lyon Berners was making his usual morning visit to his 
wife in her cell. 

She was sitting as placidly unconscious of danger as 
usual, in her harmless hallucination, playing with her little 
dog, which was coiled up on her lap. 

Beatrix Pendleton, who had scarcely left Sybil for an 
hour since her imprisonment, sat gravely and quietly near, 
engaged as usual upon some little trifle of needle-work. 

And Lyon Berners sat purposely wdth his back to the 
light to shade his face, and hide the uncontrollable agitation 
of his countenance, as he gazed upon his doomed wife, and 
shuddered to think of the awful issues at stake in the suc- 
cess or failure of Ishmael Worth’s mission. 

Should this second petition be more fortunate than the first 


THE LAST EXPEDIENT. 


233 


on-e, and should Mr. Worth succeed in obtaining for her a 
full pardon, Sybil might go forth this very day a free 
woman, and her husband might take her far away from 
these scenes of suffering to some fair foreign land, where 
she might recover her reason and her peace of mind. 

Should Mr. Worth fail in obtaining a full pardon, but 
succeed in gaining a respite, Sybil would be permitted to 
live, if she could, long enough to bring forth her child, and 
then her own forfeited life must be yielded up. 

But should her advocate fail also to obtain the respite, 
Sybil had just one week to live ; for on the seventh day 
from this, she was ordered for death ! 

And she, shielded by a mild and merciful insanity, was 
so peacefully unconscious of impending doom ! 

But to-day he knew that he must hear the best or the 
worst that could befall her ; for to-day the Richmond coach 
w’ould arrive, and would bring her zealous advocate, Ishmael 
Worth. 

And even while he sat thus gazing with his grief-dimmed 
eyes upon his fated young wife, the sound of approaching 
footsteps was heard ; the cell door was unlocked, and the 
warden presented himself, saying in a low tone : 

^^Mr. Worth has just arrived, and wishes to see you 
down stairs in my office, sir.” 

Before the warden had finished his sentence, Lyon Ber- 
ners had started up and sprung past him. 

He hurried down the stairs, threw open the door of the 
warden’s office and confronted Ishmael Worth, who, pale, 
weary, travel-stained, and troubled, stood before him. 

For Heaven’s sake ! ” cried Sybil’s husband, breath- 
lessly — “speak! what news? Is it to be deaths — or 
— LIFE I ” 


234 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


CHAPTEE XXL 

I8UMAEL worth’s NEWS. 

Even through the hollow eye of Death 
1 spy Life peering; but I dare not say 
How near the tidings of our comfort is. — Shaeebfeabb. 

Life, or death ? cried Lyon Berners, pallid with in- 
tense anxiety. 

“ It is a respite,’’ answered Ishmael Worth, gravely and 
kindly, taking the arm of the agitated man and gently 
leading him towards a chair. 

Only that ! ” groaned Lyon Berners, as he dropped 
heavily into the offered seat. 

“ But that is much,” soothingly began Ishmael Worth, 

very much, for it is an earnest of — ” 

“How long?” moaned Mr. Berners, interrupting his 
companion. 

“Luring the pleasure of the governor. Xo new day has 
been appointed for her — death added the young lawyer, 
in a low voice and after a short pause, for he could not bear 
to utter the other awful word of doom. 

“ Go on ! ” said Sybil’s husband, still violently shaken by 
his emotions. 

Ishmael Worth arose from the seat into which he had 
sunk for a moment, and he laid his hand on the shoulder 
of the suffering man and said : 

“ Try to calm the perturbation of your spirits, Mr. Ber- 
ners, so that you can hear and comprehend what I am about 
to communicate to you.” 

“ I will.” 

“ Listen, then. You are aware that the respite, for an 
indefinite period, of any condemned person, is almost 
always the prelude to the full pardon.” 

“ Yes.” 


THE ISHMAEL WORTH’s NEWS. 235 


“ Mrs. Berners has a respite for an indefinite period. I 
consider that respite an earnest of her full pardon. You 
do not doubt my sincerity in saying this ? 

“ No.” 

“ Listen yet longer. As no new day has been set for her 
death, so I think no further action will be taken in the mat- 
ter until after the birth of her child — and some consider- 
able time after that event. And then, I think, a full par- 
don will be granted her.” 

“ ‘ Hope deferred ! ’ ” began Mr. Berners, with a deep 
sigh. 

Yes, I know,” said Ishmael Worth, with a grave smile ; 

hut hear me out.” 

“ I am listening.” 

I had several interviews with the governor, and though 
he was very reserved in communicating his sentiments, I 
perceived that he really wished to pardon his petitioner.” 

“ Then why, in the name of Heaven, did he not do so ? ” 
demanded Mr. Berners, starting up from his seat. 

“ Be calm and I will tell you,” said Ishmael Worth, gen- 
tly drawing him down into the chair. 

Again Lyon Berners dropped into it with a deep groan. 

“ If it were not that trouble has so disturbed the clear- 
ness of your mind, you would yourself see that men in 
authority cannot do these things so suddenly. I repeat 
that I perceived that the governor would gladly have 
granted the pardon immediately upon the presentation of 
the petition, founded as it w'as upon such strong grounds, 
and he was only deterred from doing so by the fact that at 
the present point of time such a pardon would be a very 
unpopular measure.” 

That a lady’s innocent life should fall a sacrifice to a 
politician’s selfish love of popularity ! ” bitterly commented 
Lyon Berners. 

Ishmael Worth was silent for a moment, because he felt 


‘236 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


the injustice of Lyon Berners’ remarks, yet did not wish to 
rebuke them, and then he said, deprecatingly ; 

“ I do not think the governor’s course here was directed 
by any selfish policy. He feels that he must be guided in 
a great degree by the will of the people, who are now most 
unjustly certainly, but most violently set against Mrs. Ber- 
ners. So he sends down the respite, to which, under the 
peculiar circumstances, no one can object, and sends it as a 
prelude to the pardon which I believe will certainly follow 
when the popular excitement has had time to subside.” 

“ Heaven grant it may be so,” fervently prayed Lyon 
Berners. 

‘‘ And now,” said Ishmael Worth, drawing from his 
breast pocket a sealed parcel directed to the sheriff of the 
county, “ I must take this document to Mr. Fortescue at 
once.” 

“ I will not detain you, then. A thousand thanks for 
your kindness ! I pray Heaven that some day I may be 
able to return it,” fervently exclaimed Lyon Berners, rising 
from his chair. 

Ishmael Worth took his hand and held it while he looked 
earnestly in his face, and said : 

You have every good reason now to hope for the best ; 
so much reason not only to hope, but to feel assured of her 
release, tliat I should counsel you to begin at once your 
preparations to leave the country, so as to be able to start 
on your voyage with her immediately after the pardon ar- 
rives.” 

“ Thanks for your words of comfort ! Thanks for your 
counsel ! I always leave your presence, Mr. Worth, with 
new life ! ” warmly exclaimed Lyon Berners, cordially 
grasping and shaking the hands that held his own. 

Then Ishmael Worth took leave and went away. 

Lyon Berners returned to the cell of his wife. He was 
admitted by the turnkey in attendance. 


ISHMAEL WOKTh’s NKWS. 237 

He found Sybil fast asleep, on the outside of her bed. 
Beatrix was sitting by her, strumming low, soft notes on 
the guitar as an accompaniment to a soothing air that she 
was singing. 

“What news?” exclaimed the young lady in half-sup- 
pressed eagerness. 

“There is a respite for an indefinite period, that Mr. 
Worth thinks is a certain prelude to a future pardon,” an- 
swered Mr. Berners, seating himself beside his wife’s bed- 
side. 

“ Thank Heaven ! ” fervently exclaimed Beatrix. “ But 
why not the full pardon at once ? ” 

Mr. Berners explained the reasons for the delay. 

“The people are even more cruel and unjust than the 
law ! But still — oh ! thank Heaven for so much hope and 
comfort as we have ! ” she said. 

“ Mr. Worth feels so sure of the pardon, that he advises 
me to make all necessary preparations, so as to be able to 
leave the country immediately upon my wife’s liberation,” 
added Mr. Berners. 

“That will be glorious! Oh ! do you know that advice 
seems so practical that it gives me more confidence than 
anything else which has been said ? ” exclaimed Miss Pen- 
dleton, eagerly. “I will tell Clement to begin to get 
ready at once ! For you know we are set to go with you 1 ” 

“ God bless you ! ” was the only response of Lyon Bern- 
ers. Then he inquired, “ How did my dear wife happen to 
fall asleep at this hour ? ” 

“ She laid down to rest. Then I took the guitar and 
sang to her, and she fell asleep like an infant.” 

At that moment Sybil awoke with a smile, and greeted 
her husband pleasantly. 

He stooped and kissed her; but said nothing of the 
respite, because she was still happily unconscious of any 
necessity for such a thing. Neither did he speak of the pos- 


238 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


sible voyage to Europe ; deeming it premature to mention 
such a hope yet, lest she should, in her innocent ignorance 
of her real position, chatter of it to her visitors, and so do 
her cause harm. 

He staid with her until the prison regulations for closing 
the doors at six o’clock in the afternoon, obliged him to 
take leave and depart. 

Then he went home in a more hopeful frame of mind 
than he had enjoj^ed for many weeks. 

The summer was slipping swiftly away. 

Since the arrival of her respite for so long and indefinite 
a period, it had been deemed proper by the warden to 
accord to his charge many valuable privileges that she had 
not enjoyed, nor indeed, in her unconsciousness of her real 
situation and indifference to all external circumstances, had 
not missed in her imprisonment. 

She was now permitted to walk in the shaded grounds 
and blooming gardens within the walled inclosure around 
the prison. 

Here, through the influence of fresh air and gentle exer- 
cise, her physical health improved very much, though her 
mental malady remained unmodified. 

Here, also, some members of her household from Black 
Hall, were admitted to see her. 

Hitherto Miss Tabby, Kaphael, and even little Cromartie 
had been - carefully excluded from her presence, lest the 
violent emotion of the woman and the youth, or the inno- 
cent prattle of the child, should suddenly strike 

“ The electric chord wherewith we are darkly bound,” 

and shock her into a full consciousness of the awful position 
which her friends were now more than ever anxious to con- 
ceal from her knowledge. For they argued, if only this 
mist of insanity could be kept around her for a little while 
longer, until the hoped-for pardon should come, then she 


ISHMAEL worth’s NEWS. 239 

need never know that she had been the inmate of a prison 
or stood within the shadow of the scaffold. 

It was the opinion of her physician, and the fear of her 
friends, that her reason w-ould return with the birth of her 
child ; and they prayed that it might not do so until she 
should be free from the prison. 

And so they had guarded her from all associations that 
might suddenly bring back her memory and her under- 
standing ; and therefore had denied the visits of her faith- 
ful and afflicted servants and 'proteges from Black Hall. 

Now, however, after she had been some weeks enjoying 
the privilege of daily exercise in the fresh air of the 
grounds, and her health had gained so much, her harmless 
hallucination began to take a pleasing and favorable turn. 

She now knew that she was going to be a mother ; and 
she fancied that she was staying at some pleasant place 
of summer resort for the benefit of her health, and that 
Beatrix Pendleton was also one of the guests of the house ; 
and that Lyon Berners was only an occasional visitor be- 
cause the duties of his profession confined him the greater 
part of the time at Blackville. 

It happened one morning, when Sybil was taking her 
usual exercise in the garden, attended by her husband and 
her friend, she suddenly turned to Mr. Berners and said : 

^‘Lyon dear, I want to see Tabby and Joe. The next 
time you come to see me, I wish you would bring them with 
you.” 

“ I will do so, dear Sybil. Is there any one else you 
would like to see ? ” inquired her husband, who deemed now 
that, wdth proper precautions, her friends from Blackville 
might be permitted to see her. 

No, no one else particularly,” she answered. 

“ Are you sure ? ” 

‘‘ Why, yes, Lyon, dear ; I am sure I do not care to see 
anybody else especially. Why, who is there indeea, that I 


240 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


should care for at Black Hall, except my own faithful ser- 
vants ? ” she asked, a little impatiently. She had never 
once, since her imprisonment, mentioned the name of 
Raphael or little Cromartie. She had apparently forgotten 
them, as well as all other persons and circumstances imme- 
diately connected with the tragedy at Black Hall and the 
trial at Blackville. 

And Mr. Berners would not venture to remind her of 
their existence. 

Very well, dearest, I will bring your friends to see you 
to-morrow,” said Mr. Berners soothingly. 


^CHAPTER XXII. 

HOPE. 

One precious pearl, in sorrow’s cup, 

Unmelted at the bottom lay. 

To shine again when, all drunk up. 

The bitterness should pass away. — M oobe. 

But if Sybil, in the chaos of her mind, had lost all 
memory of her two proteges, they had not for a moment 
forgotten her. 

Raphael, who was perfectly well aware of Sybil’s situa- 
tion, was breaking his heart at Black Hall. And every 
morning when little Cro’ was set up in his high chair beside 
Mrs. Berners’ vacant place at the head of the breakfast 
table, he would ask piteously : 

“ If-^ Sybil-mamma,’ was coming home to-day ? ” And 
every morning he would be answered, evasively : 

“ May be, to-day or to-morrow.” 

The day succeeding his promise to his wife, Mr. Berners 
informed Miss Tabby that he should take her to the prison 
to see Sybil, and requested her to get ready at once to go. 
And at the same time he sent a message to Joe to put the 
horses to the carriage and prepare to drive them. 


HOPE. 


241 


Miss Tabby, at the prospect of meeting Sybil, whom she 
had not seen for some months, burst into a fit of loud hys- 
terical sobbing and crying, and could not be comforted. 

Mr. Berners had patience with her, and let the storm 
take its course, knowing that it would be followed by a calm 
that would best prepare the poor creature to meet her lady. 

When Miss Tabby was composed enough to listen to him, 
Mr. Berners very impressively said to her: 

You must remember Mrs. Berner’s mental derangement, 
that renders her utterly unconscious of her imprisonment, 
and unconcerned about her future, and you must be very 
cautious neither to betray any emotion at the sight of her, 
nor to make any allusion to the murder or the trial, or to 
any person or event' connected with either j for she has for- 
gotten all about it.” 

“ That is a wonderful blessing indeed, and I would bite 
my tongue off sooner than say anything to disturb her,” 
said Miss Tabby, with a few subsiding sobs. 

The same admonition which he had administered to Miss 
Tabby was also emphatically impressed upon the mind of 
Joe. And the old man was even more ready and able to 
understand and act upon it than the old maid had been. 

When Kaphael and little Cro’ found out that Mr. Berners 
was going to take Miss Tabby to see Mrs. Berners, they 
both pleaded to go with him also. 

But this could not in either case be permitted. 

To Eaphael Mr. Berners explained the case of his wife, 
and sent the boy away more sorrowful, if possible, than 
before. 

To little Cro’ he gave his gold pencil and his new blank 
note-book from his pocket, that the child might amuse him- 
self with drawing pictures,” and he promised to take him 
to see “ Sybil-mamma ” at some future day. 

It was yet early in the forenoon when the carriage from 

15 


242 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Black Hall rolled through the prison gates, and drew up 
before the great door of the building. 

Miss Tabby groaned and sighed heavily as she followed 
Mr. Berners into the gloomy hall. 

They were met by one of the turnkeys, who informed 
Mr. Berners that Mrs. Berners and Miss Pendleton were 
taking the air in the walled garden behind the building. 

Preceded by the turnkey and followed by Miss Tabby, 
Lyon Berners went through the hall out at the grated back 
door, and through the walled back yard, and through 
another heavy gate into the strongly enclosed and well- 
shaded garden, where he found his wife and her friend sit- 
ting under the trees. 

This was so much better than anything Miss Tabby had 
expected to see, that her depressed spirits rose at once as 
she hurried after Mr. Berners to meet Sybil, who, with 
Beatrix, had arisen to receive him. 

Mr. Berners had scarcely time to embrace his wife and 
shake hands with Miss Pendleton, before Miss Tabby 
rushed past him, caught Sybil in her arms, and forgetting 
all Mr. Berners’ cautions and her own promises, fell to sob- 
bing and crying over her foster-child, and exclaiming : 

‘‘ Oh, my lamb ! my baby ! my darling ! And is it here 
I find you, my darling ! my baby ! my lamb ! ” etc., etc., 
etc. 

“ Why, you foolish old Tabby, what are you howling for 
now ? Have n’t you got over your habit of crying for every 
thing yet, you over-grown old infant?” asked Sybil, laugh- 
ing, as she extricated herself from the clinging embrace, 
and sat down. 

“ I know I’m an oH fool,” whimpered Miss Tabby, as she 
wiped her eyes, and leaning up against the bole of the tree. 

“To be sure }^ou are! Everybody knows that! But 
you are a dear, good old Tabby, for all ; and I am delighted 
to see you. And now are n’t you going to speak to Miss 
Pendleton ? ” 


HOPE. 


243 


Oh, yes ! how do you do, Miss Beatrix ? inquired the 
old woman, as she courtesied and offered her hand to Miss 
Pendleton. 

“ I am well and glad to see you. Miss Tabby,” answered 
the young lady, cordially. 

“ And oh. Miss Beatrix, I do pray the Lord to bless you 
every night and morning of my life ! For surelj^ you do 
deserve blessings for staying with Miss S^'bil in this here 
. awful — ” 

An admonitory pressure of Miss Tabby’s shoe by Mr. 
Berner’s boot arrested her speech for an instant, and then 
modified it : 

In this here commodious and sillubrious watering 
place ! ” she added, with a knowing nod towards Mr. 
Berners, which happily escaped Sybil’s notice. 

Sj’bil had many questions to ask about Black Hall and 
its inmates, and its surroundings; but first she asked the 
general question ; 

“ How are all at home. Miss Tabby ? ” 

“ Oh, all are well, my dear child ! ” answered the old 
woman, “ as well as can be, considering your — Oh, there 
I go again ! ” she exclaimed, suddenly breaking off in 
alarm. 

All are well, you say. Miss Tabby ? ” inquired Sybil. 

“ Oh yes, honey, all well, the servants and the cattle, and 
the pets and all the other animyles, and Eaphael and little 
Cromartie — Oh, my goodness ! there I go again, worse 
than ever.” 

‘‘Who? Kaph — Cro’?” began Sybil, passing her hand 
in perplexity to and fro across her brow. “ Who are they ? 
Did I dream of them, or read of them somewhere ? Baph 
— Cro’. Oh, dear me, my head is so queer ! Did I read 
or dream ? ” 

“Ho, my dear,” exclaimed Miss Tabby, hastening to 
retrieve her error. “ You did not read, nor likewise dream 


244 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


of any sich. They peacocks, honey ; nothing but pea- 
cocks, as was bought to ornament the lawn, you know.” 

“ Oh yes, I know ! peacocks ! ” said Sybil with a smile, 
readily adopting the explanation that had been made to 
her. But I dreamt a strange dream about those peacocks. 
I dreamt — Oh, I can’t remember what I dreamt ! ” she con- 
tinued, contracting her brows with an expression of pain 
and perplexity. 

“Never mind, my darling, what it was. Dreams are 
profitless subjects to employ the mind upon,” said Beatrix 
Pendleton, taking Sybil’s hand, and lifting her up. “ Now 
come with me. I have something pleasanter to talk about,” 
she added, as she drew Sybil down one of the shaded garden 
walks. 

There was one subject among others upon which Sybil 
was quite sane ; her own approaching maternity. Beatrix 
knew this, as she led her to a distant garden seat, and made 
her sit down upon it, while she said : 

“ Now, darling, that Miss Tabby is here, had we not better 
commission her to bu}^ some flannels and lawns and laces for 
the wardrobe of the coming child ? She can bring them 
when she comes next time. And you and I can amuse our- 
selves with making them up.” 

“ Oh yes, yes, indeed ! That will be delightful. How 
strange I never thought of that before ! Why, I do believe 
I would have let the little stranger arrive without an article 
to put on it, if you had n’t reminded me — and I a married 
woman, w'ho ought to know better, and you only a girl, who 
ought to know nothing! Well, I do declare!” exclaimed 
Sj^bil, turning and staring at her companion. 

“ Never mind, darling ; it is only because you have been 
ill, and I have been well, that you have forgotten this neces- 
sary provision, while I have remembered it,” said Beatrix 
soothingly. 

“ Well, I won’t forget it again ! ” exclaimed Sybil, start- 


HOPE. 245 

ing up aud running towards her husband, and followed by 
Miss Pendleton. 

“ Lyon ! ” she said, breathlessly. How much money 
have you got about you ? ’’ 

“ I do n’t know, dear. You can have it all, if you wish, 
be it little or much ; for it is all your own, Sybil,” replied 
Lyon Berners, putting his purse in her bands. 

“ Oh, no, I do n’t want that ; but you must give Tabby as 
much money as she may require, to make some purchases 
for me.” 

Yes, certainly,” said Mr. Berners, taking back bis 
pocket-book. 

“ Me ! me make purchases for you, my lamb ? La ! 
whatever can you want in this awful — There 1 go again ! ” 
exclaimed Miss Tabby in dismay. 

‘‘ You have too much curiosity, you good old soul. But 
here, come with me, and I will tell you wdiat to buy for me 
— after you have instructed me as to what I shall want,” said 
Sybil, laughing archly, as she led the way to a rude arbor at 
a short distance. 

Now, Tabby, what I want you to buy for me, is every- 
thing in the world that is needed for a bran, ^pic and span 
new baby ! ” 

“ La ! Miss Sybil ; whose baby ? ” inquired the aston- 
ished housekeeper, with her mouth and eyes wide open. 

Tabby, do n’t be a goose ! ” 

But, Miss Sybil, I do n’t know what you mean ! ” 

Tabby, I’m not ^ Miss Sybil’ to begin with! I’m 
Mrs. Berners, and have been married more than a year, and 
you know it, you stupid old Tabby ! ” 

‘‘ But, Miss Sybil, or ratherwise Mrs. Berners, if I must 
be so ceremonious with my own nurse-child, what has that 
to do with what you ’ve been a-asking of me to buy ? ” 

‘^Nothing at all,” answered Sybil, half-provoked and half- 
amused at the dullness of the old housekeeper. “ Nothing 


246 


TRIED FOB HER LIFE. 


whatever. But you must go out and buy everything that 
is required for the wardrobe of a jmung child ; and you 
must find out what is necessary, for I myself haven’t the 
slightest idea of what that is.” 

The housekeeper looked at the lady for a moment, in 
questioning doubt and fear, and then, as the truth slowly 
penetrated her mind, she broke forth suddenly with ; 

“ Oh, my good gracious ! Miss Sybil, honey ! you do n’t 
mean it, do 3^011 ? ” 

“Yes, I do. Tabby; and I thank heaven every day for 
the coming blessing,” said the young wife, ferventl3^ 

“ But oh. Miss Sybil, in such a place as this — There I 
go again ! ” exclaimed the housekeeper, breaking off in a 
panic, and then adding, “I an’t fit to come to see 3^11 ; no 
that I an’t. I ’m always a forgetting, especially when you 
talk so sensible ! ” 

“ What ’s the matter with 3’'ou Tabby ? Are you crazy ? 
you never thought I was going to stay here for such an 
event, did you ? In a public resort like this ? Tabby, I ’m 
shocked at you ! No ! I shall be home at Black Hall to re- 
ceive the little stranger. Tabby,” said S3’^bil, making the 
longest and most connected speech she had made since her 
reason had become impaired. 

“ Ah, Lord ! ah, my Lord ! ” cried the old woman, on 
the verge of hysterics again. 

“ Now, Tabby, do n’t begin to whimper ! You whimper 
over everything though, I know. You whimpered when I 
M^as born, and when I was christened, and when I was mar- 
ried ; and now you whimper when I am going to be crown- 
ed with the crown of maternity. Oh, you old rebel ! ” 
cried Sybil, contradicting all her sarcastic words by caress- 
ing her old friend. 

“ No, I do n’t mean to ! but if you knowed ! Oh ! if you 
knowed ! ” exclaimed Miss Tabb}’', suppressing and swal- 
lowing her sobs. 


HOPE. 


247 


Kovv, then, let us go back to Lyon. Lyon will give you 
what money jmu may need for the purchases ; and I beg 
that you will make them as soon as possible, and bring 
them to me here,” said Sybil, as she arose and walked back 
to the spot where she had left her husband and her friend. 

After a little general conversation, in which Sybil some- 
times joined naturally, and from which she also sometimes 
wandered off at random, Mr. Berners proposed to call in 
Joe to pay his respects to his mistress. 

Sj^bil sprang at the proposal, and Joe was duly summon- 
ed from his seat on the box of the carriage before the door. 

He came into the garden hat in hand, and bowed gravely 
before his unfortunate mistress. 

And when she asked him many questions about that de- 
partment of the domestic economy of Black Hall that fell 
under his own supervision, he answered all her questions 
satisfactorily, without ever once falling into the unlucky 
blunders that had marred Miss Tabby’s communications. 

“ Your favorite mare, Diana is in prime order, ma’am, 
and will be so wlienever you come home again to take your 
rides in the valley. And your coach horses Castor and 
Pollux, ma’am, could n’t be in better trim. I shall take 
pride in driving of you to church behind them, ma’am, the 
first Sunday after you come home, which we all at Black 
Hall hopes, as the waters of this here cilibrated spring may 
soon restore your health, and send you back to us strong 
and happy,” said Joe, at the conclusion of a very long 
address. 

“ Thanks, Joe ! I know that you are very sincere and 
earnest in your good wishes. Many thanks ! But, dear 
old soul, how came you to be so lame ? ” 

Joe was taken by surprise, and stood aghast. He knew 
of course that his mistress was slightly insane; but he was 
utterly unprepared for such a lapse of memory as this. He 
looked at his master in distress and perplexity. 


248 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


answered Lyon Berners for his man, Joe was 
thrown from his horse, and had his ankle sprained.” 

“Poor Joe! You must, be very careful until it gets 
quite well,” said Sybil, compassionately. 

And soon after this her visitors, master and servants, 
took their leave. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 
sybil’s child. 

But thou wilt burst primeval sleep, 

/ And thou wilt live my babe to weep ; 

The tenant of a dark abode. 

Thy tears must flow as mine have flowed, — B yeon. 

Summer ripened into autumn. Sybil and her faithful 
friend employed the golden days of September and October 
in the graceful and pleasing feminine work of making up 
garments for the expected little stranger. 

But meanwhile, outside the prison walls, a cloud, black 
as night, was gathering over the young prisoner’s doomed 
head. 

The rumor got abroad that the Governor meant to follow 
up the long respite with a full pardon. 

His course in this matter was canvassed and commented 
upon severely in every bar-room, grocery, street corner, 
political meeting, and elsewhere. 

The press took up the matter, and vindictively repro- 
bated the course of the Governor, putting liis conduct upon 
the motives of partiality for the aristocracy. 

Had the murderess been a woman of the people, it said, 
her life would have paid the forfeit of her crime. 

But she was a lady of the county aristocracy, a daughter 
of the house of Berners ; and however notoriously that 
house had been cursed with demoniac passions, and however 


sybil’s child. 


249 


deeply dyed with crime, its daughter, however guilty, was 
not to be held amenable to the laws ! 

Was such outrageous worship of the aristocracy by par- 
tial judges and venal governors to be endured in a country 
of freemen ? 

No ! the voice of the people would be heard through their 
organ, a free press ! and if not listened to, then it would be 
heard in thunder at the polls in the coming autumn 
elections ! 

Such was the spirit of the people and the press in regard 
to Sybil. 

It was strange how the people and the press clamored for 
the sacrifice of Sybil Berners’ life — the “ female fiend,” 
as they did not hesitate to call her, “ daughter of demons,” 
“ the last of a race of devils, who should have been exter- 
minated long before,” they declared. 

It was because the3’^ honestly ascribed to her a nature she 
did not possess, and imputed to her a crime she had not 
committed, thus making her innocently suffer for the sins 
of her forefathers. 

Of course there were honorable exceptions to this general 
and unmerited reprobation of a guiltless young creature, 
but these exceptions were mostly among Sybil’s own set, 
and were too few to have any force against the overwhelm- 
ing weight of public sentiment. 

And it was the general belief that, if the Governor 
should outrage public opinion by pardoning Sybil Berners, 
he would be politically ruined. Sybil Berners could not be 
permitted to live. She must die before the Governor could 
be re-elected by the people. And the election was coming 
on in the ensuing November. 

Would he purchase success by the sacrifice of this young 
sufferer’s life ? 

Ah ! her best friends, asking themselves this question, 
were forced to answer, “ Yes ! ” 


250 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


This state of affairs had a most depressing effect upon 
S^’biFs husband, especially as he had sustained a great loss 
in the departure of her zealous advocate, Ishmael Worth. 

The young lawyer, soon after he had brought down 
Sybil's respite from the Governor, had been called away on 
business of the utmost importance, and had eventually 
sailed for Europe. He had gone, however, with the most 
confident expectations of her liberation. 

How these expectations were destined to be defeated, it 
was now plain to see. 

It required all Mr. Berners^ powers of self-control to wear 
a calm demeanor in the presence of his unsuspicious wife. 
He had carefully kept from the cell every copy of a news- 
paper that contained any allusion to the condemned pris- 
oner and her circumstances, and he did this to keep Beatrix, 
as well as Sybil, ignorant of the impending doom ; for he 
wished Beatrix to preserve in Sybil’s presence the cheerful 
countenance that she never could wear if she should discover 
the thunder-cloud of destruction that lowered darker and 
heavier, day by day, over the head of her doomed com- 
panion. 

But Sybil herself was losing her good spirits. The 
autumn had set in very early ; and though now it was but 
October, the weather was too cool and often also too damp 
to make it prudent for the poor prisoner to spend so many 
hours in* the prison garden as she had lately been permitted 
to do. She sat much in her cell, sad, silent, and brooding. 

“What is the matter with you, my darling ?” ^inquired 
Beatrix Pendleton one day, when they sat together in the 
cell, Beatrix sewing diligently on an infant’s robe, and 
Sybil, with her neglected needle-work lying on her lap, and 
her head bowed upon her hand, “ What is the matter with 
you, Sybil ? ” 

“ Oh, Beatrix, I do n’t know. But this autumn weather, 
it saddens me. Oh, more than that — worse than that, it 


sybil’s child. 


251 


horrifies me so much ! It seems associated with — I know 
not whiit of anguish and despair. And I want to leave this 
desolate and gloomy place. It is so lonely, now that all the 
visitors have gone but ourselves. How can you bear it, 
Beatrix ? ” 

“Very well, dear, so long as I have your company,” an- 
swered Miss Pendleton, wondering that Sybil should miss 
the throng of visitors that had existed only in her own 
imagination. 

“But I am homesick, Beatrix. Oh, Beatrix! lam so 
— so — homesick ! ” said Sybil, plaintively. 

“Never mind, dear. Try to be patient. It would not do 
for you to undertake the journey now, you know,” said Miss 
Pendleton, soothingly. 

“ Oh, but, Beatrix, I did so want to be at home to welcome 
my first dear child I There was never a Berners born out 
of Black Hall since the building was first erected,” she 
pleaded. 

“ Never mind, dear. Everything now must give way to 
your health, you know. We could not endager your health, 
b}’’ taking you over all these rough roads to Black Hall just 
now,” said Miss Pendleton, gently. 

“ Ah, well 1 I will try to content myself to stay here in 
this gloomy place. But, oh ! Beatrix, after all, I may die, 
and never see my home again. My dear home ! Oh, if I 
should die here, Beatrix, I should be sure to haunt my 
home ! ” 

“ But you will not die. You must put away such gloomy 
fancies ! ” 

As Miss Pendleton spoke, the cell door was opened, and 
the w’^arden appeared bearing in the tray containing the 
supper service for the two ladies. It was not usual for the 
warden to wait on them in person j and so, to Miss Pendle- 
ton’s silent look of inquiry, he answered : 

“ You must excuse my daughter for this once, ma’am, as 


252 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


she has gone to a merry-making in the village — this, you 
know, being Hallow Eve.” 

“ Halloiu Eve ! ” echoed an awful voice. 

Both the warden and the young lady started, and turned 
around to see whence the unearthly sound came. 

They beheld Sybil fallen back in her chair, pallid, ghastly, 
and convulsed. 

Beatrix seized her vial of sal volatile and flew to the relief 
of her friend. 

What is it, dear Sybil ? can you tell me ? ” she anx- 
iously inquired, as she held the vial to the nostrils of her 
friend. 

‘‘ Hallow Eve ! Hallow Eve ! ” she repeated in a terrible 
tone. 

“ Well, dear, what of that? That is nothing.” 

“ Oh yes, yes, it is horrible ! it is horrible ! ” 

“ Hush, hush, dear ! try to be composed.” 

“Black night ! fire ! blood ! Oh, what a terror !” 

“ It was only a dream, dear. It is over now, and you are 
awake. Look up ! ” 

“ Oh, no ! no dream, Beatrix ! an awful, an overwhelming 
reality !” exclaimed the awakened sufferer. Then suddenly, 
with a shriek, she threw her hands to her head and fell into 
spasms. 

“ For heaven’s sake run and fetch a doctor,” exclaimed 
Beatrix, in the utmost distress, appealing to the ‘terrified 
warden. 

He immediately hurried from the room to procure the 
necessary medical attendance. 

Beatrix ran after him, calling loudly : 

“Send for her husband and her old nurse from Black 
Hall, also. I know it is after hours, but I believe she is 
dying.” 

The warden nodded assent, and hurried away, leaving 
Miss Pendleton in attendance upon the agonized woman. 


SYBIL S CHILD. 


who recovered from one convulsion only to fall into another 
and severer one. 

********* 

It was midnight, and a sorrowful and anxious group were 
gathered in Sybil’s cell. She lay upon her bed, writhing 
with agon}’’, and upon the very verge of death. 

Near her stood her old family physician Dr. Hart, her old 
nurse Mrs. Winterose, and her faithful attendant Miss 
Tabby. 

In the lobby, outside the cell door, sat her husband, with 
his face buried in his hands, wrestling in prayer with 
heaven. 

What was he praying for? That his idolized young wife 
should be spared in this mortal peril ? No, no, and a thous- 
and times no ! With all his heart and soul he prayed that 
she might die — that she might die e’er that dread warrant, 
which had arrived from Kichmond only that morning, and 
which fixed her execution for an early day, could be carried 
out ! 

This agony of prayer was interrupted. The doctor came 
out of the cell, and whispered : 

“ It is over. She is the mother of a little girl.” 

There was no expression of parental joy or thankfulness 
on the father’s part. Only the breathless question : 

“ And she ? Can she survive ? ” 


254 


TKIED FOR HER LIFE. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE GREAT VALLEY STORM. 

“Then hurtles forth the wind with sudden hurst. 

And hurls the whole precipitated clouds 
Down in a torrent. On the sleepin^f vale 
Descends infernal force, and with strong gust 
Turns from the bottom the discolored streams 
Through the black night that broods immense around, 

Lashed into foam, the fierce contending falls 
Swift o ’er a thousand rearing rocks do race.” 

Can she survive ? ” repeated Lyon Berners, perceiving 
that the phj^sician hesitated to reply. “If she must die, do 
not fear to tell me so. I, who love her best, would say, 
^ Thank God ! ’ Can she survive ? ” 

“ Mr. Berners, I^ do not know. Her situation is very 
critical. She has had convulsions. She is now prostrated 
and comatose,” gravely answered the doctor. 

“ Then there is good hope that the Angel of Death may 
take her home now ? ” 

“ There is strong hope, since you choose to call it hope 
instead of fear.” 

“ Ah ! Doctor Hart, you know — you know — ” 

“ That death in some cases might be a blessing — that 
death in this case certainly would. Yes, I know. And yet 
it is my bounden duty to do what I can to save life, so I 
must return to my patient,” said the physician, laying his 
hand upon the latch of the door. 

“ When may I see my wife ? ” inquired Lyon Berners. 

“ JS^ow, if you please ; but she will not know you,” said 
the doctor, shaking his head. 

“ I shall know her, however,” muttered Mr. Berners to 
himself, as he raised his hat and followed the doctor into the 
cell, leaving Beatrix alone in the hall. 

It was near midnight, and Miss Pendleton having been 
very properly turned out of the sick-room, and having been 


THE GREAT VALLEY STORM. 255 

then forgotten, even by herself, had no place on which to 
lay her head. 

When Mr. Berners, following the doctor, entered the cell, 
he found it but dimly lighted by one of the wax candles 
with which his care had supplied his wife. 

In one corner sat Miss Tabby, whimpering, with more 
reason than she had ever before whimpered in her life, over 
the new-horn baby that lay in her lap. 

Near by stood old Mrs. Winterose, busy with her patient. 

That patient lay, wdiite as a lily, on her bed. 

“ How is she ? ” inquired the doctor, approaching. 

Wh}’’, just the same — no motion, no sense, hardly any 
breath/’ answered the nurse. 

“ Sybil, my darling ! Sj-bil f” murmured her heart-broken 
husband, bending low over her still and pallid face. 

She rolled her head from side to side, as if half-awakened 
by some familiar sound, and then lay still again. 

“ Sybil ! my dearest wife ! Sybil ! ” again murmured Lyon 
Berners, laying his hand on her brow. 

She opened her e^^es wide, looked around, and then gazed 
at her husband’s face as if it had been only a part of the 
wall. 

“ Sybil, my dear, my only love ! Sybil ! ” he repeated, 
trying to meet and fix her gaze. 

But her eyes glanced off and wandered around the room, 
and finally closed again. 

1 told you she would not know you,” sighed the 
doctor. 

“ So best, so best, perhaps. Heaven grant that she may 
know nothing until her eyes shall open in that bright and 
blessed land, where 

‘ The wicked cease from troubling, 

And the weary are at rest ! ’ ” 

said Lyon Berners, bowing his head. 

But he remained standing by the bedside, and gazing at 


256 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


the pale, still face of his wife, until at length Miss Tabby 
came up to him, with the babe in her arms, and whimpered 
forth : 

“ Oh, Mr. Lyon, won’t you look at your little daughter 
just once ? Won’t you say something to her ? Won’t you 
give her your blessing? Nobody has said a word to her 
yet ; nobody has welcomed her ; nobody has blessed her ! 
Oh ! my good Lord in heaven ! to be born in prison, and not 
to get one word of welcome from anybody, even from her 
own father ! ” 

And here Miss Tabby, overcome by her feelings, sobbed 
aloud ; for which weakness T for one do n’t blame her. 

“ Give me the child,” said Mr. Berners, taking the babe 
from the yielding arms of the nurse. ^^Poor little unfortu- 
nate ! ” he continued, as he uncovered and gazed on her 
face. May the Lord bless you, for I, wretch that I am, 
have no power to bless.” 

At this moment Mrs. Winterose came up, and addressing 
the doctor, said : 

“ Sir, I have done all I can do in this extremity. Tabby 
is fully equal to anything that may happen now. But as for 
me, sir, I must leave.” 

“ Leave ? What are you thinking of, woman ? ” demand- 
ed the doctor, almost angrily. 

“Sir, I left my poor old husband at the very point of 
death ! I would not have left him, for any other cause on 
earth but this. And now I must go back to him, or he may 
be dead before I get there.” 

“ Good Heaven, my dear woman, but this is dreadful ! ” 

“ I know it is, sir. But I could n’t help it. My child 
here ill and in prison, and I called to help her in her ex- 
tremity, and my husband on his death-bed. Well, sir, I 
could n’t help my poor old man much, because he was so low 
he did n’t know one face from another, and I could help my 
poor imprisoned, suffering child; and so I left my dying 


THE GREAT VALLEY STORM. 257 


husband to the care of my darter Libby, and I comes to my 
suffering child ! But now she’s over the worst of it, I must 
leave her in the care of Tabb}’-, and go back to my dying 
husband. Please God I may find him alive ! ” said the 
poor woman, ferventlj'- clasping her hands. 

“ My good soul, here is indeed a most painful case of a 
divided dut}’,” said the doctor, in admiration. 

“ Yes, sir ; but the Lord fits the back to the burden,” 
sighed Mrs. Winterose, resignedly. 

“ Have you two backs ? ” wickedly inquired the doctor. 

“ What was it, sir ? ” asked Mrs. Winterose, doubting 
her own ears. 

‘^Nothing. But just see what a storm is coming up! 
You ’ll be caught in it if you venture out.” 

“ Law, sir, I ’m not sugar, nor likewise salt, to get melted 
in a little water. And I must go, sir, please, if I am ever 
to see my old man alive again,” said the nurse resolutely, 
putting on her bonnet and shawl. 

“ But how are you going six miles through night and 
storm ? ” 

“ Mr. Lyon will not begrudge me the use of the carriage 
and horses and driver as brought me here, to take me 
back to my husband’s death-bed, I reckon,” said the old 
woman confidently. 

“ Ho, indeed ; nor any help T can give you, dear Mrs. 
Winterose,” said Mr. Berners, feeling himself appealed to. 

“Thanky, sir; I knowed it. And this I say: When 
the breath is outen my poor old man’s body I will come 
back to my child, holding it always more dutiful to attend 
to the living as can suffer, rather than to the dead as are at 
rest. And now, if you please, Mr. Lyon, to see me into the 
carriage, and order Joe to drive me home, I will be 
obleeged to you,” said the old woman. 

Ljmn Berners gave her his arm, with as much respect as 
if she had been a duchess, and led her from the room. 

16 


258 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


When they reached the outer door, 'which the warden, in 
consideration of the necessity, ordered to be opened at this 
unusual hour, they found the rain pouring in torrents from 
a sky as black as pitch. 

“ A wild night to take the road, Mrs. Winterose,’’ said 
Mr. Berners, as he hoisted a large umbrella over her head. 

“ I do n’t know as I remember a wilder one, sir, since the 
flood of ninety, and that was when I was a young ’oman, 
which wasn’t yesterday. And you’ll hardly remember 
that, sir ? ” 

“ No,” answered Lyon, hurrying her into the carriage 
and hastily clapping to the door. 

The turnkey on duty that night went with the carriage 
to unbar the outer gate for it to pass. Notwithstanding 
his large umbrella he came back drenched with rain. 

Good Lord ! an’t it cornin’ down ? Another Noah’s 
flood ! Bird Creek is boiling like a pot. It is all up 
in a white foam ! so white that you can see it through the 
darkness ; and listen ! you can hear it from here ! ” said 
the turnkey as he entered the hall, shook himself, making 
a rain shower around him, and proceeded to bar the 
entrance again. 

“ You won’t want this door opened again to-night, will 
you. Doctor?” inquired the man, rather impatiently, of 
the physician, who had stepped to the door. 

Dr. Hart hesitated, and seemed to debate with himself, 
and then answered : 

I must stay with my patient for another hour, and then, 
if there should be no change in her condition, I shall have 
to trouble you to let me out, Mr. Martin — since you have 
got no warrant to keep me here,” he added, with a smile. 

The man put up the last bar with a bang, and looked as 
if he wished he had the authority of which the doctor 
spoke. 

Dr. Hart returned to the room of his patient whona h^ 


THE GREAT VALLEY STORM. 259 

found in the same comatose state, watched by Miss Tabby, 
who was moaning over the young babe that lay across her 
lap, and by Lyon Berners, who sat beside the bed holding 
his wife's cold hand. 

Where is Miss Pendleton ? I did not see her as I came 
up the passage,” inquired the doctor, after he had looked at 
his patient. 

“ The warden's darter came and took her aw^ay to sleep 
)'i her room, and high time too, poor young lady, for she 
was about worn out,” said Miss Tabby. 

The doctor took a seat near the head of the bed, where 
he could watch the sick woman. 

And all became very silent in the cell, until at length 
Miss Tabby spoke. 

What 's that roaring ? It can 't be thunder this time 
o' year.” 

It is the creek swollen by the rain. I understand that 
it is very high, lashed into a foam,” answered the doctor. 

Oh,” said Miss Tabby, indifferently ; and all became 
again silent in the cell but for the sound of many w'aters 
heard more and more distinctly even through the heavy 
walls. 

At length the doctor arose to go. He made a final care- 
ful examination of his quiet patient, and then, turning to 
her distressed husband, said : 

^‘I must ask you to go out with me, Mr. Berners, to 
bring back some medicine for your wife, which I wish to 
put up at my office.” 

Ljmn Berners silentlj’’ arose and took up his hat. And 
the tw’o gentlemen left the cell together. 

The warden had gone to bed, but had left orders with 
the night-w'atch to let the visitors out when they wished to 

go. 

Once more the heavy bars fell, and the thick doors were 
opened. 


.260 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Heaven and earth ! what a night ! ” exclaimed the doc- 
tor, as he buttoned liis surtout tiglitly across his breast, and 
prepared to brave the fury of the storm. 

Lyon Berners, scarcely conscious of the state of the 
weather, followed him. 

It was now dawn, and the black sky had faded to a dark 
gray. 

The rain was pouring down as if all ^‘the gates of 
heaven had been opened for another deluge. 

The river and the creek lashed to fury, were roaring and 
rushing onward, like devouring monsters. 

Merciful Heaven ! Talk of the fury of fire, but look 
here ! ” exclaimed the doctor, glancing aronnd. But his 
voice was lost in the sound of many waters. 

Their road, after passing the outer gates of the prison, 
lay away from the banks of the creek, and down the course 
of the river, towards the village. 

But for the darkness of that stormy dawn they might 
have seen a fearful sight below. The lower portion of the 
town was already overflowed, and the waters were still ris- 
ing. Many of the people were gathered upon the house- 
tops, and others were out in boats, engaged in rescuing 
their neighbors from the flooded dwellings. 

But for the horrible roaring of the torrents, they might 
have heard the shouts and cries of the terrified inhabitants 
shocked and half-frenzied by the suddenness of this over- 
whelming calamity. 

■ But they heard and saw but little of this as they 
plunged on through the darkness, in the deluge of rain 
and thunder of waters. Unawares they were drawing near 
their fate. They came upon it gradually. 

Good Heaven ! what is the matter down there ? ’’ sud- 
denly cried the doctor, as he dimly discerned the forms of 
men, women, and children gathered upon the house-tops, 
which did not look like house-tops, but like flat-boats float- 
ing upon the dark waters. 


THE GREAT VALLEY STORM. 261 


I say, Berners, what the deuce is the matter down 
there? Your eyes are younger than mine — look,’^ anx- 
iously insisted the doctor, peering down into the gloomy 
and horrible chaos. 

“ It is a flood. The river is over the town,” replied Mr. 
Berners, carelessly ; for he, in his grief, would not have 
minded if the whole of the Black Valley bad been turned 
into a black sea. 

“ The river over the town ! Good Heaven ! And you 
say that as indifferently as if hundreds of human lives and 
millions of money were not imperilled,” cried the doctor, 
breaking away from his companion, and running down 
towards the village. 

A terrible, a heart-crushing sight met his eyes ! 

The doctor’s family occupied a beautiful low-roofed villa 
on the opposite bank of Violet Bun, a little stream of 
water making up from the Black Biver. The doctor’s first 
thou^t was of his own home, of course, and he ran 
swiftly on, through dd,rkness and storm, until he was sud- 
denlj' brought up on the banks of the run. Here he stood 
aghast. The pretty rustic bridge that had spanned the 
run, and led to his own terraced grounds, was swept away ; 
and the run, now swollen to the size of a raging river, 
roared between himself and his home. 

His home ! — where was it ? 

He strained his aching eyes through the murky gloom to 
look for it, and oh ! horror of horrors ! his terraced garden 
and his low-roofed villa had disappeared, and in their place 
what seemed a raft, with human beings on, floated about at 
the mercy of the flood. 

With a pang of despair, he recognized it as his own 
house-top, with probably his wife and children clinging to 
it; and at the same instant the raft, or roof, was violently 
whirled around, and swept under by the force of the 
current. 


•262 


TRIED EOR HER LIFE. 


With a cry of desperation, the wretched husband and 
father flung up his arms to leap into the boiling flood, when 
he was caught from behind and held fast. 

“ What would ^mu do ? Eush to certain destruction ? 
said the voice of Lyon Berners, who had just reached the 
spot. 

My wife ! my children ! shrieked the man, dashing 
his hands to his head. 

Come back, or 3’’ou will be swept away,’’ said Mr. 
Berners, forcibly drawing him from the spot just an instant 
before the water rolled over it. 

And still the rain poured down like another deluge, and 
still the waters roared and the waters rose, and dark night 
hung over the dawn. 


CHAPTEE XXy. 

THE GREAT VALLEY FLOOD. 


The rearing river, backward pressed, 

Shook all her trembling banks amain, 

Then madly at the eygre’s breast 
Flung up her weltering walls again. 

Then banks came down with ruin and rout, 

Then beaten foam flew round about. 

Then all the mighty floods were out. — J ean Ingelow. 

Meanwhile the worried and angry prison guard had • 
barred up the doors for the last time that night, to remain 
barred, as they said, against all comers until the usual hour 
of opening next day; and then thej" went to bed, and to 
sleep, little dreaming of the mighty power that would force 
an entrance before the light. 

Left alone in the prison cell to watch her sleeping 
patient. Miss Tabby sat and whimpered over the baby, 
which she still held in her lap. 

Sometimes she listened to the roaring of the river out- 




\ 

th\ great valley flood. 263 

side, and sometii^es she muttered to herself after the 
manner of lonely oldxladies. 

“ Oh, indeed I do \Hsh they would come. One on ^em, 
at any rate ! Oh, it ’s horrid to be left alone here in this 
dissolute place, witli a dying ’oman, and she my own dear 
nurse child,’’ she whined, wringing and twisting her fin- 
gers, and looking from the face of the sleeping babe to that 
of the unconscious mother. 

^‘Oh, to think of my own dear father a-dying at a 
distance, and I never to see him alive no more in this 
world ! ” she burst forth, sobbing and crying. 

And oh, good Lord in heaven, what an awful night ! I 
never did see sich a night in mj’’ life, with the rain pouring 
and pouring barrels full in a stream, and the river roaring 
around the house like a whole drove of lions ! ” she 
exclaimed, shuddering from head to foot. 

^‘And an endless night as it is, oh, my goodness! But 
it must be near morning; I do think it must be near 
morning,” she finally said, as she arose and laid the baby 
on the bed beside its mother, and then went to the window 
to look out for the dawn. 

She started back with a cry of terror, and sank upon the 
nearest seat. 

The cell, as I told you, was in the angle of the building, 
and had two windows — the one looking down upon Black 
Biver, and the other upon Bird Creek. Miss Tabby had 
peeped from that one which overlooked Bird Creek. 

Day had dawned darkly and dimly, but the solitary 
woman saw enough to curdle her blood with horror. 

The river and the creek, lashed to fury, had swollen so 
high that they were now merged into one body of water, 
and had risen nearly to the second story of the building. 
If Miss Tabby could have put her arm through the grated 
window, she might easily have reached down and dipped 
her hand in the rising water, for it was rising so fast that 
she could almos-t see it mount. 


'264 


TRIED FOR HER LIF^. 


“ Oh, my good gracious alive ! ” she cried, as she fell 
back on the chair — it’s a flood ! It’s a flood like that I 
heard mother talk about, which carried away the mills in 
ninety. It’s a flood! it’s a flood! And we shall all be 
drownded in this horrid cell, like blind kittens in a tub ! ” 

And made desperate by terror, the old woman started up, 
and rushed to the barred and bolted door of the cell, and 
rapped and kicked with all her might, and threw herself 
against it, and called, loudly and frantically : 

“ Help ! Murder ! Murder ! Help ! Take us out, or 
we’ll all be drownded in ten minutes!” 

But bolts and bars resisted all her strength, and the noise 
of winds and w’aters drowned her voice. And the same 
cause that rendered others deaf to her frenzied cries for 
help, prevented her from hearing the sounds of terror and 
confusion that came up from the story below — the groaning 
and crying of men locked up in their cells ; the calling and 
shouting of warden and watchmen, rushing from corridor to 
corridor to release the prisoners from their imminent peril ; 
the clattering of feet, the mingling of voices ; in short, all 
the discordant notes that go to make up the infernal concert 
of a crowd surprised and maddened by sudden and general 
disaster. 

There was also another reason why Miss Tabby’s cries 
for help could not be heard. Sybil Berners -was the one 
solitary prisoner in this long and remote corridor. Her 
door was barred and bolted flist, and it was not deemed 
necessary to leave a night watch on duty near it. Thus, if 
they should happen to be forgotten in the general panic, 
they w’ould certainly be drowned ; for even if the thunder 
of W’aters, and the shouting of men, and crashing of tim- 
bers, had been less deafening and distracting. Miss Tabby’s 
voice would still have failed to reach the ears of the distant 
turnkeys. 

From her fruitless efforts at the barred door, she rushed 


THE GREAT VALLEY FLOOD. 265 

in desperation to the grated window. With a fearful shriek 
she threw her hands to her head, and rushed away again. 
The surrounding waters had risen within a foot of the win- 
dow sill ! She tilled the air of the cell with her shrieks, as 
she rushed madly about from wall to wall, like a frenzied 
screaming macaw, beating itself against the bars of its 
cage. 

“ To lie drownded here in the cell like a cat in a tub ! 
To be drownded like a cat in a tub ! ” was the burden of 
her death song. 

And through all this Sybil slept the sleep of coma. 

Suddenly the young babe awoke and added its shrill and 
feeble pipes to the horrible uproar. 

The old maid had all a mother’s tenderness in her heart. 
In the midst of her own agony of terror she ceased to 
scream, and went and took the babe and cried gently over 
its fate, murmuring : 

“ Only a few hours old, and to die in this horrible den, 
my babe ! Oh, my babe ! And you not even baptized ! 
Oh, my goodness, not even baptized ! What shall I do ? 
Oh ! what shall I do? Let you die without baptism? Oh, 
no, no ! I never did baptize a child in my life, which I 
know I’m all unworthy to do it ! But — but, I know the 
church allows any one to christen a child in danger of death. 
And so, my baby ! Oh ! my poor baby ! ” And her voice 
broke down in tears as she bore the child to a table where 
there was a pitcher of water. 

Very humbly and reverently the old maid performed the 
sacred ceremony that her faith taught her was essential to 
the child’s salvation. And she gave it the first name that 
came into her head — “ Mary.” 

There ! now you are ready to go, my baby ! Not that 
— that I really think the good Lord would ever keep jmu, 
my innocent one, out of His heaven, merely because you 
wasn’t christened! No, no, I don’t believe that either! 


• 266 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE, 


But still it ’s best to be on the ^fe side, when it ’s so easy as 
sprinkling a little water and speaking a few words ! — 
Hush ! I do believe they are coming to let us out at last ! ” 
exclaimed Miss Tabby, breaking off from her monologue, 
as through all the general uproar a crashing sound close at 
hand smote upon her ear ! 

She hastily laid the child upon the bed, and hurried to 
the door. No one was there, and the bolts and bars were 
fast as ever. But before she could turn around the window 
fell in with a tremendous clatter and bang — glass and grat- 
ing ringing and shattering upon the floor. 

Miss Tabby recoiled and squeezed herself against the 
wall in the corner. She thought the window had been 
beaten in by the water, and she expected the flood to 
follow. 

But a tall man in dark clothing leaped through the open- 
ing, striking the floor with a rebound, and then stood up 
and gazed around the dimly lighted cell. 

His eyes fell upon Sybil, as she lay in coma on the bed. 

“ All right, Baphael ! You were correct. This is the 
cell, and here she is. Come ! ” and he called to some one 
w'ithout. 

A second figure, younger and slighter, jumped through 
the open window into the cell, and stood, like the first had 
done, peering around through the semi-darkness. 

“ Haste, Raphael ! You were swift-footed enough to 
bring her here ! Try to be almost as swift-footed to bear 
her hence ! ” cried the first man, seizing the form of Sybil 
and wrapping it hastilj'- in the upper quilt. 

As he was doing this, something rolled over and cried. 

Hallo ! Here ^s a baby ! I never bargained for that ! 
exclaimed the man in astonishment. 

“ It is her babj", father — the baby for whose sake the 
governor prolonged her life. Let me take it,” pleaded the 
youth. 


THE GREAT VALLEY FLOOD. 267 


Why the demon didn’t you tell me about this before ? ” 
angrily demanded the elder, while carefully wrapping up 
the patient. 

I knew no more than yourself, father. You knew, as I 
and everybody did, that this child was expected, and that 
the governor respited the mother for its sake ; but I did n’t 
know it had arrived until you spoke of it,” said the youth. 

“ Ah ! you are more quick-witted than I,” laughed the 
man sarcastically. 

“ Let me take care of the babe, father,” pleaded the boy. 

“ Why ? ” 

Because it must be rescued with her.” 

“ Why, again ? ” 

“ Because she would break her heart without it.” 

“ How do you know ? ” 

Oh, father, even a bird loves its birdling ; and of course 
this tender-hearted lady loves her little one.” 

She do n’t seem to love anything now, or even to know 
anything. She is as stupid and lifeless as anything I ever 
saw that lived and breathed. She is under the influence of 
opium, I should think,” said the man, who had now the 
form of the unconscious woman well wound around with the 
quilt and laid oyer his breast and shoulder. 

Oh, no, she an’t, sir ! no, she an’t — no sich a thing, sir! 
But she ’s been in this here comotious condition, knowing 
nothing nor nobody, ever since the baby arrove ! ” said 
Miss Tabby, coming from her concealment, for she saw in 
these two men only benevolent individuals who had come to 
deliver her and her lady. 

Who the demon are you? ” demanded the elder, turn- 
ing sharply towards her. 

I aii’t no demon, sir ! though I am mistreated all as if 
I was one,” whimpered Miss Tabby. 

“ Then who are you ? ” 

1 ’m her poor, faithful, misfortunate nurse, sir,” sniv- 
elled Miss Tabby. 


268 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Oh, you are ! — Raphael, take the child into the boat I 
Never mind the old woman ; let her drown ! said the 
elder man, laughing savagely. 

Oh, sir, do n’t you do that ! Do n’t you leave me here 
to drown, sir ! to die such a dismal death in this dark 
den ! ” pleaded Miss Tabby, catching hold of the man’s 
coat-tails. 

Go to the devil ! ” exclaimed the stranger, trying to 
shake her off. 

But I an’t prepared to go, sir, indeed I an’t,” persisted 
Miss Tabby, holding on. 

“ Go ahead, Raphael — I’m coming ! And, confound you, 
so is the water ! It will be too late in another minute ! ” 
savagely exclaimed the man, succeeding now in shaking 
himself free. 

Oh, sir ! for pity’s sake, sir, do n’t leave me here to 
drown ! How can you resk}'^ the mother and child, and 
leave a poor lone ’oman like me to die ? How can you, sir ? 
Resky me, for your own blessed mother’s sake ! Oh ! young 
gentleman, beg for me ! do n’t leave me ! ” prayed Miss 
Tabby, turning from the elder to the younger man. 

“ Go on, Raphael ! ” shouted the man. 

But the youth hesitated. 

Rather,” he said, “ that old woman was kind to me. 
Save her ! there is room enough in the boat.” 

Oh ! you darling sweet Master Raphael ! Is it yourself 
that is there ? ” exclaimed Miss Tabby, delightedly. “ Is 
it yourself indeed ? Oh, tell the gentleman what a faithful 
servant I have been, and how my young lady loved me ! 
and how she ’d fret herself to death if I was to be drownded, 
all through coming to her help in her trouble to-night ! ” 
pleaded the poor creature, clasping her hands. 

‘‘ Father, bring her off, for our sakes, if not for her own,” 
said the boy, diplomatically ; for if we leave her here, and 
she should be saved by others, she may betray our secret.” 


THE GREAT VALLEY FLOOD. 269 

“ That is true,” admitted the elder man. “ So we will 
save the poor old wretch, but only upon conditions. Here, 
you old devil ! ” he called, turning to the woman. 

“ Yes, sir,” said Miss Tabby, opening and clasping her 
hands. 

“ If I take you off in the boat to-night, and drop j^ou 
down safe somewhere on dry land, will j’ou promise never to 
tell any living soul who rescued you ? ” 

“ Yes, sir! yes, sir! and swear to it on the Bible! which 
there is one on the table handy, sir ! ” eagerly assented 
Miss Tabby. 

“ And will you also promise never to speak of our visit to 
this cell to-night ? ” 

“ Yes, sir ! yes, sir! and swear to it ! ” 

And never to mention how Mrs. Berners and her child 
were saved ? ” 

Oh yes, sir ! ” 

“ Nor even that she was saved at all ? ” 

Oh 3'es, sir ! and sw'ear to it ! ” 

“And you will never betray the secret, by word or 
sign ? ” 

“ No, sir ! ” 

“ But keep it to the day of your death ? ” 

“Yes, sir ! ” 

“ Get the book, then, and take the oath. Baphael, take 
the child to the boat and lay it on the blankets there, and 
then come back and help the woman off. And, good 
Heaven ! make haste ! We must get away from here 
immediately. I hear footsteps along the corridor ! Some 
one is coming ! Haste! We must not allow Sybil Berners 
to be rescued through the door. That would be worse than 
being left to drown ! Haste, I say ! ” exclaimed the man, 
speaking rapidly and excitedly as he caught up another 
quilt and cast it over Sybil’s form, and hurried with her 
towards the open window. 


270 TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 

There was indeed the most pressing need of haste, for 
more reasons than one: the rising waters were now oozing 
through the stone walls and covering the floor inside, while 
outside the flood was almost up to the window sill. In a 
very few moments it would overflow the place. 

Kaphael laid the child down where he had been told to 
put her, and then ran back into the cell to help Miss Tabby, 
who had faithfully taken the oath required of her. 

The elder man laid his insensible burden in the boat, and 
then climbed in after her. 

The last was a difficult feat, for the water was brimming 
to the window sill, and the boat was above it. 

As the man stepped into the boat, his weight caused it to 
tip so much that it cast a shower into the ceil. 

Miss Tabby shrieked out that she was going to be 
drowned, although not a drop of water had touched her. 

Raphael soothed her and helped her into the boat, and 
put her in a seat near the elder man. 

“That’s the thing! Now do you support this lady’s 
head on your lap, for I shall have to row,” said the man, as 
he transferred Sybil Berners from his own arms to Miss 
Tabby’s, and then took up the oar. 

Raphael took up the other oar, and they were rowing 
away from the prison w^alls when their attention was 
attracted by the sound of a dog’s whining in the cell. 
They looked up and saw Sybil’s little Skye terrier on the 
window sill, with her fore-paws in the water. And at the 
same instant little Nelly struck out, swam towards them, 
jumped into the boat, and nestled at her mistress’ feet. 

The rain had ceased, and the clouds were breaking away 
from the eastern horizon, where the first crimson streak 
heralded the rising sun. 

They rowed swiftly towards the heights, which now ap- 
peared not so much like the boundaries of a valley as the 
hilly shores of an inland sea. 


THE GREAT VALLEY FLOOD. 271 


Yes, the Black Valley seemed indeed transformed into a 
black lake, surrounded with wooded hills, and dotted with 
wooded isles j hut these seeming hills were really mountains, 
and these seeming isles were the tops of submerged trees. 

They rowed to the nearest point of land and stopped the 
boat, w'here a little path led up the steep ascent. 

‘‘ Do you see that path ? ” inquired the elder man of the 
old woman. 

Yes, my dear gentleman, I do,” said Miss Tabby. 

Do you know where it leads ? ” 

‘‘ Yes, my dear gentleman j it leads to a cluster of quar- 
rymen’s cottages.” 

“ Then get out of the boat and go up there ; there you 
will find shelter.” 

“ But, my good sir, my sick lady?” inquired Miss Tab- 
by, hesitating. 

“Never mind her. She will be a blamed sight better 
taken care of by us, than she has been lately by any of 
you ! Come, get out with you ! ” 

“ But, sir, I dare n’t desert my sick lady.” 

“ I ’m blest, if you do n’t get out of this boat in double 
quick time, if I do n’t pitch your head foremost into the 
water, and drown you. We have no time to stop here fool- 
ing with you till it is broad daylight,” said the man, start- 
ing to his feet as if about to put his threat into instant exe- 
cution. 

Miss Tabb}’' jumped up and scuttled out of the boat as 
fast as she could go, without even having stopped to kiss 
her lady “ good bye.” 

And this was the last Miss Tabby saw or heard of Sybil 
Berners for many long years. 


272 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


CHAPTER XXVL 

AFTER THE DISASTER. 

^ That flow strewed wrecks about the grass ; 

That ebb swept out the flocks to sea. 

A fatal ebb and flow, alas! 

To many more than mine and me. — Jean Ikgelow. 

The day after the terrible disaster the sun arose upon a 
scene of awful desolation ! 

Great was the devastation of lands and dwellings, and 
the destruction of life and property, by the memorable 
Black Valley flood ! 

The Black Valley itself, from its very form, position, and 
circumstances, seemed doomed to suffer tremendously from 
such a disaster. 

It was a long, deep, and narrow valley, shut in by two 
high mountain ridges, which interlocked in rude rocky pre- 
cipices at its higher extremity, where the Black Torrent, 
dashing down the steeps, formed the head of the Black River, 
which, fed by many other mountain springs, ran down the 
whole length of the valley, and past the village of Black- 
ville at its lower end. 

Bj’’ the fatal deluge of rain, all the mountain springs 
were raised to torrents, and the Black Torrent was swollen 
to a cataract, and all poured down vast floods of water into 
the Black River, which rose and overflowed its banks even 
to the mountains’ side; so that the Black Valley became a 
black lake. 

The advance of the day, and the retreat of the waters, 
showed at length the full extent of the disaster. 

The dwellings in the valley, and in the village at its foot, 
were nearly all swept away. Only the strongest buildings, 
and those on the highest grounds, escaped destruction. 

The hotel, the court-house, and the church, were each 
damaged, but ndt destroyed. 


AFTER THE DISASTER. 


273 


The prison was carried away, and several of the prisoners 
drowned. 

The familj’ of Dr. Hart were saved. Though more than 
once submerged, they clung to the floating roof, until they 
w'ere carried down into calmer waters, where they were 
picked up by the men who were out in boats to rescue the 
drowning. 

The Black Hall Manor suffered severely. The Hall itself 
was too strongly built, and upon too high ground, to be even 
endangered ; but its detached offices and laborers’ cottages 
were swept away by the flood. Their inmates happily had 
saved themselves by speedj^ flight up the mountain side, and 
W'ere found the next day safe at Black Hall, where they had 
taken refuge. 

But the sunlight also discovered many more wretches 
made homeless by the flood, and now sitting and shudder- 
ing upon the rocks, up and down the mountain sides. 

But the dwellings of all those who had been so fortunate 
as to escape injury b}’ the flood, were freely opened to 
receive the homeless sufferers. 

It was late in the day before the condition of the ground 
enabled Ljmn Berners, attended by some villagers, to seek 
the site of the late prison. 

Hot a vestige of the building remained. The very spot 
on which it had once stood was unrecognizable — a vas't mo- 
rass of mud and wreck. 

The warden and his family, with Miss Pendleton and a 
few of the officers of the prison, were found about a mile 
beyond the scene, grouped together on a high hill, and 
utterly overcome, in mind and body, by the combined influ- 
ences of cold and hunger, grief and horror. 

“ For the Lord’s sake, where is my wife ? where is 
Sybil ? ” anxiously inquired Lyon Berners, though scarcely 
knowing whether he hoped or feared she might be alive. 

17 


274 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Beatrix Pendleton, who had sat with her head bowed 
down upon her knees, now raised it and said : 

Heaven knows ! I tried to make them go and save 
her ; but they would not ! I refused to leave the prison 
without her, but they forced me on the boat.’’ 

“ We could n’t have saved her,” spoke the warden ; 

her cell was right at the corner of the building, at the 
joining of the creek and the river. It was overflowed be- 
fore we got there, and the water, which must a busted in 
the window, was a rushing down the corridor and filling up 
the place so fast, that we had to run up the stairs to the 
next story to save our own lives.” 

“ Heaven’s will be done ! ” groaned Lyon Berners, who, 
heart-broken as he was, scarcely understood or believed the 
warden’s explanation, or knew whether he himself were 
merely resigned, or really rejoiced that his wife had met 
this fate now, rather than lived to await a still more horri- 
ble one. 

And the poor woman w^ho was attending her, and the 
young child, have also perished.?” added Mr. Berners, 
after a pause, and in an interrogative tone. 

Beatrix nodded sadly, and the w^arden said : 

“ Yes, sir, of course, which they all three being in the 
cell together, shared the same fate ! And if we could a 
reskeed one, we could a reskeed all ! ” 

“ And where are your other prisoners ? ” inquired Mr. 
Berners. 

“ Some on ’em was drownded, sir, unavoidably. And some 
on ’em we reskeed by taking of ’em through the windows, 
and on to the boat ; but Lord love 3’ou, sir, they give us leg 
bail the first chance they got ; which who could blame 
them ? Most on them as we reskeed has made off up the 
mountain, sir; and little use it would be to try to catch 
them, sir, even if we succeeded, seeing as we have got no 
place to lock ’em up. And as for me, my ^ okkerpation ’a 


AFTER THE DISASTER. 


275 


gone/ as the man says in the play ! But I ’m not thinking 
of mj’^self, sir. I ’m mortal sorry for the poor wretches called 
so sudden to their accounts,” added the warden, brushing the 
tears from his eyes with the sleeve of his coat. 

Come, Martin,” said Mr. Berners, who, even in the 
midst of his owm despair, could not forget the claims of hu- 
manity — Come, Martin ! You and your companions in 
misfortune cannot sit here longer without great danger to 
health and life ! You must get up and come aw^ay. The 
road, though very difficult, is passable, you see, since we 
come by it. Come away ! ” 

Come where? To the alms-house, I suppose,” 
groaned the warden, dropping his head in his hands. 

My poor fellow', the alms-house has gone with the rest. 
There is no alms-house now.” 

“Then we may as well stay here and die; for there is no 
other place for us to go,” groaned the ruined man. 

“ There are half a hundred places to go to. Every house 
that has been spared by the flood has, in gratitude to 
Heaven, opened its doors to receive those who are rendered 
homeless by this disaster. Come, my good friend ; come 
with your , companions to the village hotel. A number of 
ns who have lost no property by the flood, have already 
clubbed together for the relief of those who have lost all. 
Come ! if you sit here longer you will surely catch your 
death. 

The warden arose with a groan; and his example was 
followed by all his comrades. 

“ My dear Beatrix, take my arm,” said Mr. Berners, help- 
ing Miss Pendleton to rise. 

“ My brother ! Where is my brother ? He was far enough 
off to be safe from the flood ; but why is he not here now. 

“ My dear Beatrix, he could not possibly get here yet. 
As soon as the w'ater shall have settled he wdll come, no 
doubt,” said Mr. Berners, as he led her down the hill towards 
the village. 


276 TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 

The road was very bad. In some places it was nearly 
half a leg deep in pools of water, or in mud. But they 
reached the half-ruined village at length. And Mr. Ber- 
ners, accompanied by the whole party, took Miss Pendleton 
to the hotel to await the arrival of her brother. 

All the sufferers were hospitably received by the land- 
lord’s family, who furnished them with dry clothing, warm 
meals, and good lodging. 

But it was not until evening that the subsidence of the 
waters permitted Captain Pendleton to make his way down 
the valley to the village, to look after his sister. 

The meeting between the brother and sister was very 
affecting. 

Beatrix wept on his shoulder. 

“Thank Heaven, you are safe, my dear sister!” were 
among the first words that he said. 

“ Yes ; I am safe, I am safe, Clement. But she is lost! 
Oh, Clement, she is lost P’ cried Beatrix, bursting into 
tears. 

Captain Pendleton started, and looked up to the face of 
Mr. Berners, as if asking for a confirmation or contradiction 
of these words. 

Lyon Berners sorrowfully bent his head, and then turned 
away to conceal the strong emotion which he could no 
longer control. 

It was not until the next morning that the waters had 
gone down sufiSciently to enable them to go up the valley as 
far as Black Hall. 

And up to this time but few of the dead bodies of the vic- 
tims had been found; but all these had been easily recog- 
nized, and were now prepared for burial. 

Mr. Berners engaged special agents to watch for the ap- 
pearance of S^ybil’s body, and to advise him the moment it 
should be discovered ; and then, having made every neces- 
sary provision, in case of its recovery during his absence, for 


AFTER THE DISASTER. 


277 


its reception at the church, and its retention there until his 
return, he set out for lilack Hall, accompanied by the two 
Pendletons. 

As no carriage could possibly pass along the roads in their 
present condition, our party were forced to go on horseback. 

After a heav}’- and tedious ride through the deep mud left 
by the flood, they reached Black Hall, which they found 
half full of refugees ; and where they were warmly welcomed 
by their faithful servants, w'ho, up to the hour of their arri- 
val, had supposed them to be lost. 

But then came the question : 

Where is Miss Sybil ? asked almost in a breath by 
Joe and Hilly and Aunt Mopsa. 

And grave and sorrowful faces answered, even before the 
tongue spoke : 

Lost in the flood ! ” 

Then for a time loud wailing filled the house. But after 
a while it ceased, and comparative quiet followed. 

Where is Raphael and little Cro’ ? ” at length inquired 
Mr. Berners. 

Raphael ? Bless your soul, Marster, Raphael an’t been 
seen in this house since you yourself left it,” answered Joe. 

Then I am very much afraid the poor fellow has been 
lost,” sighed Mr. Berners. 

And then, having called Dilly to show Miss Pendleton to 
a bedroom, and ordered Joe to perform the same service for 
Captain Pendleton, Mr. Berners went to a back building of 
the house in which the poor refugees were gathered. 

Here he found the people in great distress, mourning 
over the sudden loss of all their worldly goods. 

He consoled them as well as he could ; reminded them 
that, with all their losses, they had lost no members of their 
families, and promised them that he and his neighbors 
would rebuild and refurnish their cottages, and finally invit- 
ing them to stay at Black Hall until this should be accom- 
plished. 


278 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Thanks and blessings followed his words, and then he 
asked : 

“ Has any one heard from my old overseer. Winterose ? 
His house stands high, and I suppose that it is safe.” 

A half a dozen voices answered in a breath : 

‘‘ Law, yes, sir ; his house is safe.” 

“ He ’s had a stroke, sir.” 

They thought he was a dying.” 

But he is better now ; and his wife, who is a good judge, 
thinks he ’ll get over it.” 

“ It gratifies me to hear this, my friends. But although 
the old man’s house is safe, he has met with a much greater 
misfortune than any of you have in the loss of all you pos- 
sess,” said Mr. Berners, very gravely. % i 

Law, sir, what ? ” inquired a dozen voi^aat once. 

He has lost his eldest daughter,” answered Lyon Ber- 
ners, sadly. 

Who ? Miss Tabby ? Law, sir, no he an ’t ! ” 

“ She ’s home, fast enough ! ” 

She was brought home by a quarryman yesterday morn- 
ing.” 

It was the habit of these people to talk all at the same 
time, so that it required a shrewd listener to understand 
them. 

But there seemed so large an interest at stake in their 
present communications, that Mr. Berners understood even 
more than was intended. 

“ Miss Tabb}’’ saved ? ” he echoed. 

“ Yes, sir,” answered a score of voices. 

“ And who with her ? ” 

“No one as we know’s on, sir.” 

“ No one ? ” 

“No, sir.” 

“ How was she saved ? ” 

“ Do n’t know, sir.” 


AFTER THE DISASTER. 


279 


Nobody knows, sir.’’ 

She do n’t even know herself, sir.” 

These replies were all made in a breath. 

Do n’t even know herself! What is the meaning of 
that ? ” 

“ Yes, sir. No, sir. You see, sir,” began half a hundred 
voices. 

“ Hush, for Heaven’s sake ! Speak one at a time. Mrs. 
Smith, do you answer me. How was Miss Tabby saved? ” 
inquired Ljmn Berners, appealing to the oldest and wisest 
woman of the assembly, and silencing the others by a ges- 
ture. 

“ Indeedjwe do n’t know how she was reskeed, sir. She 
was brongljjfc home by^ a quarryman, but, she was in a cowld 
fever, and could n’t gi»e no account of herself, nor nothing,” 
replied the old wom^! 

“ Where is she ?” 

“Up to her father’s house, sir. They carried her there.” 

“ I must go there and see her at once,” said Mr. Bern- 
ers, seizing his hat and hurrying from the house. 

He walked rapidly through the kitchen garden, vineyard, 
orchard, and meadow, to the edge of the wood where the 
overseer’s cottage stood. 

He found old Mrs. Winterose with her hands full. 

Mr. Winterose, who three days before had had a paralytic 
stroke, that had nearly brought him to the grave, had now 
so far rallied as to give hopes of his continued life. 

He lay sleeping on a neat white bed in the lower front 
room of the cottage. His wife was the only person with 
him. 

She came forward in great haste to meet Mr. Berners. 

“ Oh, sir ! ” she cried, “ my child. Miss Sybil ! was she 
reskeed ? ” 

“ Ah, Heaven ! That is the very question I came to ask 
you, or rather to ask Tabby,” sighed Mr. Berners, dropping 
into a chair. 


280 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Oh, sir ! Oh, sir ! wept the old nurse, “ then I can 
give you any more satisfaction than you can give me ! 
Tabby do n^t know nothink ! She ’s in bed up stairs, in a 
fever, and outen her mind, and Libby is a watching of 
her.” 

Does she talk in her delirium ? ” 

“ Talk ? Law, sir, she do n’t do nothink else at all ! 
Her tongue goes like a mill-clapper all the time ! ” 

“ Let me go and see her. Perhaps by her rambling talk 
I may gain some clue to my poor wife’s fate.” 

“ 1 ’m ’fraid you won’t, sir. I an’t been able to yet. 
But 3"ou ’re welcome to come up and see her if you will,” 
said the old woman, rising and leading the way to a neat 
room overhead, where Miss Tabby lay in bed, babbling at 
random. 

Miss Libby, who was sitting beside her, got up and 
courtesied, and made way for Mr. Berners, who came for- 
ward and bent over the sick woman, spoke to her kindly, 
and inquired how she felt. 

But the old maid, who was quite delirious, took him for 
the sweetheart of her young days, and called him “Jim,” 
and asked him how he dared to have the “impidince” to 
come 'into a young lady’s room before she was up in the 
morning, and she requested Suzy — a sister who had long 
been dead — to turn him out directly. 

But though Mr. Berners sat by her and succeeded in 
soothing her, he gained no information from her. She bab- 
bled of everything under the sun but the one subject to 
which he wished to lead her thoughts. 

At length, in despair, Mr. Berners arose to depart. 

“ Where does that quarryman live who picked her up 
and brought her home ? ” 

“ Up at the quarries, sir, to be sure.” 

“ But there are fifty cottages up there, scattered over the 
space of miles.” 


AFTER THE DISASTER. 


281 


« Well, sir, it is in the whitish stone one, the nighest 
but three to the big oak, you know ; which his name it is 
Norriss, as you can find him by that. But, law, sir ! he 
can ’t tell you no more nor I have,’’ said Mrs. Winterose. 

Before she quite finished her speech Mr. Berners ran 
down stairs and out of the cottage, and bent his steps to 
the quarryraan’s hut. 

It happened just as the old nurse had foretold. 

The man could tell Mr. Berners nothing but this : that 
Miss Tabby had come to his house just about daylight, hav- 
ing her clothing wet and draggled nearly up to her waist 
with mud and water, and shaking as with an ague, and 
sinking with fatigue. 

He having neither wife nor daughter, nor any other 
woman about the house, had no proper dry clothes to offer 
her ; but he made her sit by the fire, while he questioned 
her as to the manner in which she came to be so much ex- 
posed. 

She answered him only by senseless lamentations and 
floods of tears. 

When her chill had gone off a high fever came on, and, 
the quarryman explained, he knew that she was going to be 
ill, so he offered to take her home ; and, partly by leading, 
and partly by lugging, he had contrived to carry her safe to 
her fathers cottage, which she reached in a state of fever 
and delirium. 

This was all the information that Mr. Berners could get 
from the honest quarryman, who would willingly have given 
him more had he possessed it. 

Lyon Berners went back to Black Hall, where he found 
Clement and Beatrix Pendleton waiting for him in the par- 
lor, and wondering at his prolonged absence. 

He apologized for having left them for so many hours, 
and explained the business that had called him so suddenly 
awa}^, giving them the startling intelligence of Miss Tab- 


282 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


by’s unaccountable safety ; which, be added, left the fate of 
bis beloved wife in greater uncertainty than they had sup- 
posed it to be. She was ‘probably drowned, but possibly 
rescued. He could not tell. He and they must wait 
patiently the issue of events. 

Wait patiently ? Twice more that day he walked up to 
the overseer’s cottage to find out whether Miss Tabby’s 
fever had gone off and she had come to her senses, and he 
came back disappointed. And again, ver}’^ late at night, he 
walked up there and startled the watcher by the sick-bed 
with the same question so often repeated ; 

“ Has she come to her senses yet ? ” 

No ; she is more stupider than ever, I think,’^ was Miss 
Libby’s answer. 

“ What does your mother think is the matter with her, 
then ? ” 

Oh, nothing but chills and fevers. Only Tabby has a 
weak head, and always loses of it when she has a fever.” 

Well, Miss Libby, as soon as she comes to herself, if it 
is in the dead of night, send some one over to the Hall to 
let me know, that I may come immediately ; for my anx- 
iety to ascertain my wife’s fate, which she only can tell, is 
really insupportable.” 

Miss Libby promised to obey his directions, and Lyon 
Berners returned to Black Hall. 

But not that night, nor for many nights after that, did 
Miss Tabby come to her senses. Her illness proved to be 
a low type of typhoid fever, not primarily caused, but only 
hastened by the depressing influences of fear and cold from 
her exposure to death, and to the elements, on the night of 
the great flood. 

For many weary weeks she lay on her bed, too low to an- 
swer or even understand a question. 

And during all this time nothing occurred to throw the 
faintest gleam of light upon the deep darkness that still en- 
veloped the fate of Sybil Berners. 

s 

I 


THE VICTIMS. 


283 


This period of almost insupportable anxiety was passed 
by Mr. Berners in doing all that was possible to repair the 
damage done by the disastrous flood. 

He was the largest subscriber to, and also the treasurer 
of the fund raised for the relief of the victims, and passed 
much time in receiving and disbursing money on their ac- 
count. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE VICTIMS. 

And each will mourn his own. ^she saith.) 

Bui sweeter woman ne’er drew breath 

• Than that young wife. — Jean Inglelow. 

The Great Black Valley Flood, as it came to be called, 
had occurred on Hallow Eve. 

Before Christmas Eve many of its ravages had been re- 
paired. 

The laborers’ cottages had been rebuilt and refurnished. 
Other dwellings were in process of reconstruction ; and the 
W’orks were only temporarily suspended by the frost. The 
public buildings were contracted for, to be re-erected in the 
spring. 

All the missing bodies had been recovered, and had re- 
ceived Christian burial, except those of Sybil Berners and 
her young child, neither of which had yet been found, or 
even heard of — a circumstance that led many to think that 
the mother and babe had been rescued and concealed by her 
friends. 

And for many weeks Miss Tabby had lain prostrated in 
body and idiotic in mind, and thus totally unable to give 
any account of them. 

Lyon Berners’ anxiety and suspense gradually settled 
into deep melancholy and despondency. As a matter of 


284 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


*' 


duty, he managed the estate as if Sybil or her child might 
one day reappear to enjoy it. 

It may be remembered that when Lyon Howe, the young 
barrister, married Sybil Berners, the wealthy heiress, by 
the conditions of the marriage contract he took her family 
name, that it might not become extinct. 

As an offset to this sacrifice on his part, it was stipulated 
in the instrument that, in case of his wife dying before 
him, without leaving children, he should inherit her whole 
property. 

This, in the present state of affairs, gave him all the 
power he needed in the management of the great Black 
Valley Manor. 

He lived at Black Hall, doing his duty for duty’s sake, a 
very lonely man. 

How that Sybil was gone, the neighbors were all disposed 
to be too good to him. They visited him, and invited him 
out. But with a just resentment he declined all visits, and 
all invitations, except from those devoted friends who had 
been faithful to his wife in the time of her trouble : Clement 
and Beatrix Pendleton, young Sheridan the lawyer, old Mr. 
Portescue the sheriff, and Bobert Munson the soldier. 

Miss Tabby at length rose from her bed of illness, and, 
to use her mother’s words, was able to creep about the 
house,” but in a state of mental imbecility, which is not an 
unusual effect of a long, low type of typhoid fever. She 
was obstinate too, “ obstinate as a mule,” her sister said. 
Ho one could get a word of satisfaction from her upon the 
mysterious subject of Sybil’s fate. When asked by Mr. 
Berners how she was saved, she answered : 

“ I was picked up by a man in a boat.” 

“ What sort of a man ? ” 

An or ’nary man like any other.” 

“ Did you know who he was ? ” 

« Ho.” 


THE VICTIMS. 


285 


Where did he pick you up ? 

** Not far from the prison.” 

Where did he put you down ? ” 

Close by tlie quarries.” 

What became of Sybil ? ” 

I do n’t know.” 

“ When did you see her last ? ” 

The last time I ever set eyes on her /ace, was when she 
was Ijdng on her bed in her cell, and I went and laid the 
baby by her ; that was just before the water rushed in. I 
an’t set eyes on her face or the babfs face since.” 

And this was literally true, for Miss Tabby had not seen 
their /aces in the boat. But those who had not the key to 
her meaning, could not detect the equivocation. 

She was cunning enough in her foolishness to keep her 
oath, and to leave upon the minds of her hearers the im-’ 
pression that Sybil and her young child were certainly lost. 

But Miss Tabby had a tender conscience as well as a 
soft heart and a weak head, and the keeping of this secret, 
which she could not divulge without breaking her oath, nor 
conceal without trifling with the truth, caused her so much 
distress, that these frequent cross-examinations invariably 
ended, on her part, in a fit of hysterics. 

This was the state of affairs on Christmas Eve following 
the great flood. 

It was the saddest Christmas ever passed at Black Hall. 

Mr. Berners had invited no one, not even his most inti- 
mate friends, to spend it with him. 

But Captain Pendleton and Beatrix had come uninvited, 
for they were determined that Ljmn Berners should not be 
left alone in his sorrow at such a time. 

“ We have rejoiced with you in many a Christmas holi- 
day. Shall we not come and mourn with you now ? ” Bea- 
trix gently inquired, as with her brother she entered the 
parlor, where Mr. Berners on this Christmas Eve was griev- 
ing alone. 


286 TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 

He got up and welcomed his friends, and thanked thena 
for their visit. 

“ I could not find it in my heart to invite any one, even 
you, true souls ; but I am very^ very glad you have come j 
though it is another sacrifice on your parts.” 

“ Not at all, Lyon Berners ; we love j^ou, and had rather 
come here and be miserable with you than be merry with 
an^'body else,” said Clement Pendleton warmly. 

But Mr. Berners was resolved that his generous young 
friends should not be as miserable ” as they were willing 
to be in the merry Christmas season. So he wrote a note 
of invitation for two other guests, and dispatched it by Joe 
to Blackville that very evening. 

The note was addressed to Mr. Sheridan, with a request 
that he would come, and bring his niece. Miss Minnie 
Sheridan, to meet Captain and Miss Pendleton at dinner on 
Christmas-day, at Black Hall. 

Now this Miss Minnie Sheridan was an orphan heiress, 
the daughter of the young barrister’s eldest brother. By 
the death of both her parents, she had been left to the 
guardianship of her young uncle, who, with his youthful 
niece, now boarded at the Blackville Hotel. 

It was reasonably^o be expected that these young people 
would, on Christmas-day, willingly exchange the hotel 
parlor and the society of strangers, for the drawing-room 
at Black Hall and the company of their friends. 

Moreover, Mr. Berners had noticed a growing esteem 
between the brilliant young barrister and the beautiful 
Beatrix Pendleton, an esteem which he hoped and believed, 
for their sakes, would ripen into a warmer sentiment. 
Therefore he invited the Sheridans to meet the Pendletons 
at the Christmas dinner. 

Miss Tabby had, within a few days, returned and resumed 
her position as housekeeper at Black Hall. Her ofiSce was 
something of a sinecure. She could do little more than 


THE VICTIMS. 


287 


fret at the servants. She was not strong enough yet to 
scold them vigorously. 

On the night before Christmas it snowed, but just 
enough to cover the ground a few inches deep. 

Christmas-day broke clear, bright, and beautiful. 

Lyon Berners arose early in the morning, to be ready to 
greet his two friends upon their entrance into the drawing- 
room. 

Although his heart was aching with, grief for SjLil, he 
was resolved to wear a cheerful countenance for the sake of 
those two loyal souls who had been sq devoted to her, and 
were now so constant to him. He little dreamed how great 
would be his reward before the day should be over. 

Clement and Beatrix Pendleton did not keep him wait- 
ing long. They soon came down from their chambers, and 
greeted him affectionately. 

“This cannot be a ‘merry’ Christmas to you, dear 
Ljmn, but it may be a good one. Will you accept this 
from me? See! wdth the faith or the superstition of the 
old Christians, I opened it at random to-day, to find your 
fate in some text. And this is reallj^ what my eyes first 
lighted on,” said Beatrix Pendleton, as she placed an ele- 
gantly bound pocket Bible in the hands of Lyon Berners, 
and pointed to this passage : 

“ There shall be light at the evening tideP 

“ Thanks, dear Beatrix ! thanks for the sacred gift and 
happy augury ! ” said Mr. Berners, as he took the book 
and read the lines. “ ‘Light at the evening tide.’ That, 
I fancy, means the evening of life. A weary time to w'ait, 
Beatrix. Ah ! Clement, good-morning. I may wish yon 
a merry Christmas, at least,” he added, suddenly turning 
to Captain Pendleton, who had followed his sister into the 
room. 

And they shook hands and went in to breakfast. 

There were no more Christmas presents exchanged. No 


288 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


one there, except Beatrix, had thought of giving one; 
though hers had been graceful and appropriate. 

After breakfast they went to church at Blackville. They 
were drawn thither in tlie roomiest carriage, by a pair of 
the strongest horses, with Joe on the box ; for they expected 
to pick up the Sheridans after the morning service, and to 
bring them to Black Hall to dinner. 

The distance between Black Hall and Blackville was 
considerable, and the road was rough, and so it was rather 
late when our party reached the church. 

The congregation were already in their seats, and the 
pastor was in his pulpit ; so there was no opportunity for 
our friends to meet until after the benediction was pro- 
nounced. 

Then, as the people were all leaving the church, Mr. 
Berners sought out young Sheridan and his little niece, 
and after paying them the compliments of the season, 
invited them to take seats in his carriage to Black Hall. 

They accepted his offer with thanks, and allowed him to 
conduct them to the coach, in which the Pendletons were 
already seated. 

There was a merry meeting between the young people, 
notwithstanding the sadness of some reminiscences. 

Youth cannot for ever be sorrowful. 

Joe put whip to his horses, and started them at a brisk 
trot over the snow-clad roads, and under the brilliant sky of 
that clear December day. 

They reached Black Hall in good time. 

The splendid Christmas fires were blazing on every hearth 
in the house. 

Beatrix Pendleton took Minnie Sheridan to her own bed- 
chamber, that they might there lay off their bonnets and 
shawls and prepare for dinner. 

Captain Pendleton went off alone to his room, and Mr. 
Berners was just about to conduct young Sheridan to some 


THE VICTIMS. 


289 


spare bed-chamber, where he could brush his hair, when the 
barrister laid his hand upon his host’s shoulder, and stopped 
him, saying; 

“ iSTo ; stay here. I have something which I must show 
you while we are quite alone.” 

And he shut the doors, and then drew his companion away 
to the furthest window, out of earshot of any chance eaves- 
dropper. 

“ What is it? ” inquired Mr. Berners, much mystified. 

“ I do not know ; something very important I fancy. 
But read this first,” said the barrister, placing an open 
letter in his friend’s hand. 

Ljmn Berners in great curiosity examined it. It was ad- 
dressed to Sheridan, Esq., Counsellor at Law, Black- 

ville. 

It contained these lines : 

“ Take the enclosed letter to Mr. Lyon Berners on Christ- 
mas-daj^, when jmu find him quite alone. If this should 
reach jmu before Christmas, keep it carefully until that 
day ; then deliver it to its address with secrecy and discre- 
tion.” 

“ In the name of Heaven, what is this ? Where is the 
letter ? When did you get it ? ” demanded Lyon Berners, 
in as^tonishment. 

“ It seems to be a mystery. I got the letter only this 
morning, else in spite of the injunction I should have de- 
livered it to you before. Here it is now,” said jmung Sher- 
idan, placing the mysterious epistle in the hands of his 
friend. 

Lyon Berners examined it in haste and excitement. 

It was superscribed : 

To L^mn Berners, Esq., Black Hall. To the care of 

18 


290 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Sheridan, Esq. To be delivered secretly on Christmas- 

day.” 

Mr. Berners tore off the envelope, when he came to 
another one, on which was written : 

A Christmas gift for Mr. Berners. 

This also he hastily tore off. Then he ran his eyes rapid- 
ly over the contents of the letter, and with a great cry — a 
cry- of joy unspeakable — he threw up his arms and sank to 
the floor. 

He who had never been conquered by fear or sorrow or 
despair, was now utterly vanquished by joy ! 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

WHAT THE LETTER CONTAINED. 

Do you blame me, friend, for weakness ? 

’Twas the strength of passion slew me. — E. B. Browning. 

With an exclamation of dismay Sheridan raised his 
friend, and helped him to an arm-chair, and sat him back in 
a reclining position on it. 

And at the same instant hurrying steps were heard ap- 
proaching, and some of the servants who had been loitering 
in the hall, startled by the noise of the cry and the fall, 
rushed into the room to see what the matter could be. 

Lyon Berners had not quite lost his consciousness, and 
the entrance of the men at once restored his senses. 

His first act was to point to the letter which had fallen 
from his hand to the floor, and say : 

“ Pick it up and give it to me, and send these people away 
— quickly, Sheridan, if you please.” 

The young lawyer immediately went after the intruders, 
exclaiming, 

I 


WHAT THE LETTER CONTAINED. 291 

“ Come, come, old Joe, Tom, Bill ; what do you mean by 
rushing in upon us in this way when we are having a good 
humored rough and tumble wrestling match among our- 
selves ? Be off with you, you barbarians ! ’’ 

And so with affected mirth, which really deluded the 
simple darkies, he turned them out of the drawing-room, and 
locked the door. 

Then he went back to Mr. Berners and inquired : 

Now what is it, if I may ask ? 

She is safe ! My dear Sybil is safe ! — safe beyond all 
pursuit ; bej'ond all possibility of recapture ! exclaimed 
Mr. Berners, triumphantly. 

“ Thank Heaven, with all my heart ! But how, and 
where ? inquired Sheridan, excitedly. 

She was rescued by Baphael ! She is on mid-ocean 
now, in a British ship, under the protection of the British 
flag, God bless it ! ” 

“ Amen ! But tell me all about it, or let me read the 
letter.’^ 

“ Stop ! I must call Pendleton and Beatrix. Those two 
true friends must hear my secret and share our joy,’^ said 
Mr. Berners, rising and going to the door. 

But there was no need to call, for he had scarcely turned 
the lock before he heard the light steps of Miss Pendleton 
approaching. 

“ What is the matter? Ljmn, you are happy or crazy ! 
Which is it ? I am sure something delightful must have 
happened to make you look so ! What is it ? demanded 
Beatrix, as she slided into a seat. 

Before Mr. Berners could answer, the door once more 
opened, and Captain Pendleton entered. 

“ What is up ? was his first question, on seeing the ex- 
cited countenances of his friends. 

‘‘ We have good news. But — where is Miss Sheridan ? 
inquired Mr. Berners, suddenly remembering his youngest 
guest. 


292 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


“Oh, Minnie is curling her hair in my room. Her ring- 
lets were so blown by the wind that it was necessary to 
dress it over again. She would n’t let me wait for her,” ex- 
plained Beatrix. 

“ It is just as well,” added Mr. Sheridan. “ Minnie is a 
good girl, but she is little more than a child ; and though I 
could answer for her honesty, I could n’t for her discretion.” 

“ Tlien,” said Lyon Berners very gravely, “ then let 
wh.at I am about to read to you remain an inviolable secret 
between us four.” 

“ Certainly,” answered Sheridan. 

“ Shall we swear it ? ” inquired Pendleton. 

“ Yes ! 3^es ! if necessary. But, oh ! do go on ! It is 
something about Sybil,” impatiently exclaimed Beatrix. 

“ Yes, it is something about Sybil. You need not swear 
to be secret on this subject. You have given me your words, 
and that is sufficient. Indeed, I feel sure that without any 
request on my part or promise on yours, you would still have 
been secret, for you would still have seen the necessity of 
secrecy. Now I will read you the letter, which will explain 
itself,” said Mr. Berners, as he unfolded his mysterious 
epistle, and read ; 

“BniTiSH Merchantman Deliverance,} 

“ At Sea, Lat. 35 deg. 15 in., Lon. 49 deg. 27 m., > 
December 1st, 18 — . ) 

“To Lyon Berners, Esq. : Sir — As you and 3"our set 
made such a mess of it in trying to save Mrs. Sybil Ber- 
ners from the injustice of ‘justice,’ I, who am an outlaw, 
undertook to take her from out of all }mur hands. 

“ The instrument of my work was my dutiful son Paphael. 
We had intended, with the help of our brave band, to storm 
the prison, and deliver the fair prisoner by force of arms. 
But before we were quite readj^ for that difficult enterprise, 
the flood came and made all eas}^ We had only to hire a 
boat, get into it, and permit ourselves to be lifted by the rise 


WHAT THE LETTER CONTAINED. 293 


of the waters to the level of her cell window, heat it in, and 
take her out. We did that and saved her, and also, inciden- 
tally, the infant girl and the old maid. 

“ We put out the woman at the foot of the Quarries, hav- 
ing first hound her hy an oath to secrecy as to the means of 
her rescue and the safety’ of Sj’bil Berners — an oath, hy the 
way, of which you herebj' have the authority to release her, 
should 3 mu see fit to do so. 

“ We placed the child at nurse with a woman h}’ the name 
of Fugitt, who is the wife of the overseer at Colonel Poin- 
dexter’s plantation, not far from Blackville. The nurse 
knows nothing of the child, except that she was paid a hun- 
dred dollars down for taking care of it, and asking no ques- 
tions. 

‘•We took the mother to the old ruined wdnd-mill, where 
we had a snug room or two. There she was skilful!}’ nursed 
h}’' our old housekeeper through the dangerous fever that 
followed her confinement and her exposure. After her recov- 
ery and her full restoration to reason, we, avoiding every re- 
ference either to her long imprisonment or materniW, both 
of which events she had forgotten in the delirium of her ill- 
ness, w’e took her awaj’ to Norfolk, where we went on hoard 
the British merchant ship ‘Deliverance.’ I write this letter 
from the sea, about half-way across the Atlantic, and I wait 
to send it by some homeward-bound ship. 

“ December 9th . — The man on the look-out reports a sail 
in sight, heading this way. If she should prove to be an 
American-bound ship, her name ought to be ‘ The Surprise,’ 
for when I send this letter by her she wdll take you a very 
great surprise. 

“ If this should reach you in season, pray accept it as a 
Christmas gift. 

“ Mrs. Berners is still improving, though not yet well or 
strong enough to accommodate herself to the motion of the 
ship sufficiently to enable her to write to you. Nor will she 


294 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


send any confidential message through me. She will not 
ev'en see or speak to me. She keeps her state-room, attend- 
ed by m3' wife. 

She still resents her rescue, which she calls her abduc- 
tion, and she feels grief and indignation at being taken away 
from 3'ou, rather than joj' or gratitude at beijjg saved from 
death, lint then it is true that she thinks she was only 
rescued from drowning in the flood. She does not know that 
she was saved from a still more horrible fate. 

“ The mild insanity which appeared several months ago, 
and disappeared at the birth of her child, and which then 
shielded her from all realization of the horrors of her late 
position, still saves her from all knowledge of what it was. 
Although now perfectl}' sane, she is entireU' ignorant that 
she was ever put on trial for her life, or condemned to 
death, or sent to prison. 

Nor would I enlighten her on that subject lest the fate 
of the sleep-walker should be hers — who, having safely 
walked over the parapet of a bridge above an awful chasm, 
fell dead with horror the next morning- at beholding the 
peril he had escaped. I would advise 3'ou to maintain the 
same inviolable secrecy on that subject. She does not 
know the dangers she has passed, and she need never know 
them. 

They have spoken the ship, and I will go up and see 
what she is. 

‘‘Later . — She is not the “Surprise,” as she ought to have 
been. She is the “Sally Ann,” of Baltimore, homeward 
bound, with a cargo of silks. She will lay alongside for 
half an hour to exchange letters and some provisions. 

“ A few words more. Do n’t forget where I told yon, yon. 
might find your child, and then go and accuse me of steal- 
ing it. 

“ Bemember that j'ou have my authority for releasing the 
old woman from her oath, that she may give you every de- 


WHAT THE LETTER CONTAINED. 295 


tail of the rescue. But I counsel you, that as soon as you 
shall have heard all that she has got to tell you, you will 
seal up her lips with another oath even more binding than 
the first. 

“ The continued existence of S^'bil Berners should be 
kept a profound secret from all others, except those few de- 
voted friends who will follow her into exile ; and it should 
be kept so, for this reason ; that sometime, sooner or late, 
there will be an extradition treaty between all civilized 
nations, for the delivering up of fugitives from justice, 
which impending treaty may or may not have a retrospec- 
tive action. Therefore it is better that Mrs. Berners should 
be supposed to have perished in the flood, and that the 
secret of her rescue and continued life should be carefully 
kept from all, except those already mentioned. 

“ A last word. The only way in which my wdfe can keep 
her quiet, is by promising that you will follow her immedi- 
ately. Come as soon as j’ou can. I am weary of my 
charge. Why I ever undertook it, is my secret. We will 
await you in Liverpool. A letter addressed to ^ Baphael,’ 
through the general post-office in that city, will find us. 

And now I must seal up, wishing you a merry Christ- 
mas. From your Unknown Friend.” 

Thank Heaven ! ” fervently exclaimed Beatrix Pendle- 
ton. 

Amen,” earnestly responded her brother. 

You will go soon, Lyon ? ” eagerly inquired Beatrix. 

Soon ? I would start instantly if I could. But there 
is no coach that leaves for Baltimore or Norfolk until the 
day after to-morrow. To-day I will give orders to my ser- 
vants to pack up. To-morrow I will ride over to Fugitt’s to 
inquire after my child, which for its own sake must still be 
left in their care, I suppose. And the day after I will leave 
in the early coach for Baltimore. There I shall certainly 


296 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


be able to meet a clipper bound for Liverpool,” answered 
Mr. Berners, speaking very rapidly. 

“ And in the mean time ? ” anxiously inquired Captain 
Pendleton. 

“ In the meantime, that is, to-day, I must give mj^ friend 
Sheridan here a power of attorney to manage this estate 
during. my absence. For you — you hold to your purpose of 
visiting Europe, Pendleton ? ” 

“ Oh, yes ; and if you could wait a week, while I make 
the necessary arrangements, Beatrix and myself might ac- 
company you ; but that is too much to ask of you under 
the circumstances,” smiled Clement Pendleton. 

‘‘ I should be so rejoiced to have you both go with mej 
especially as the voyage is going to be a tedious one at this 
season of the year ; but how can I delay a day while my 
poor Sybil, an exile among strangers, waits for me ? ” 

“ Oh, of course you could not possibly do it. But we 
W’ill follow you soon, Berners, rely upon that.” 

Lyon Berners pressed his friend’s hand in silence, and 
then went to meet Minnie Sheridan, who had glided shyly 
and silently into the room. 

She must have heard the latter part of the conversation, 
but without apparently understanding it ; for she came for- 
ward blushing and smiling, as usual, and took her seat 
beside Beatrix Pendleton. 

The conversation concerning Sybil ceased then. Some 
one started the subject of the Christmas sermon, and they 
talked of that until dinner was announced. 

It was a much happier feast than Lyon Berners had . 
ventured to hope for. They sat long at table. After they 
withdrew to the drawing-room, Mr. Berners sat the two 
Pendletons and the two Sheridans down to a rubber of whist, 
and then excused himself to them, and went out in search 
of Miss Tabitha Winterose. 

He found that faithful creature in the housekeeper’s room, 
sitting at a little table, drinking tea and dropping tears. 


WHAT THE LETT1ER CONTAINED. 297 

“ What is the matter, Miss Tabby ? he inquired cheer- 
full3\ 

“ What is the matter ! ” she repeated, reproachfully. Is 
it what is the matter you ask me, Mr. Berners ; you? An’t 
this Christmas-day the first Christmas-day since ever she 
was born, as she has n’t passed here ? And to see how you 
all went on at dinner, eating and drinking and laughing 
and talking as if she was n’t lost and gone ! ” 

“ How, Miss Tabby, you know w^ell enough that Mrs. 
Berners is quite safe.” 

Miss Tabby started, spilt her tea, nearly dropped her cup, 
and — gazed at him in consternation. 

“ I know that you know she is safe,” repeated Mr. Ber- 
ners. 

I do n’t know nothink of the sort ! How should I ? 
And neither do you. How should you indeed, when even I 
do n’t ? ” said Miss Tabbj’’, defiantly. 

Now, my good soul, you were present when Mrs. Ber- 
ners was taken through the window of the flooded prison 
on to the boat,” said Mr. Berners. 

Miss Tabby stared at him aghast. 

“ How — how — how do you know that ? ” she gasped and 
faltered. 

“ My good creature, because the man who rescued her and 
her child and you, has written and told me how he did it, 
and all about it. 

Miss Tabby’s mouth and eyes opened wider than ever. 

And is she — is she safe ? ” she inquired. 

Yes, she is safe, on her way to a foreign country, where 
I shall follow her.” 

“ Well, my good gracious me alive ; how uncommon 
strange things do turn out ! Well, I never did hear the like 
to that! Well, thanks be to goodness!” ejaculated the 
poor woman fervently, clasping her hands. 

Now, Miss Tabby, this letter-writer tells me that he 


298 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


bound you by an oath never to divulge the secret of Sybil’s 
rescue ; but, mark you, that he gives me the authority to 
release you from that oath, so that you may give me all the 
particulars of that event,” said Mr. Berners, and then he 
waited for her to speak. But she kept a resolute silence. 

“ Come, Miss Tabby, tell me all about it,” continued Mr. 
Berners, seating himself to listen to the story. 

“ I an ’t got nothing to tell you any more than I have 
told you already,” answered the woman doggedly. 

“ Why, you never told me anything ! ” exclaimed Lyon 
Berners, impatiently. 

“ Yes, I did too ! I told you as how the last time I seen 
Miss Sybil’s face, or the baby’s face, was when they was 
both a layin’ side by side on the bed just before the water 
rushed into the broken winder ; and how I myself was 
picked up not far from where the prison was,” said Miss 
Tabbj’’, stubbornly. 

“ Which was all a prevarication, Tabby, though to the 
letter true. Come. You can tell me more than that.” 

“ No, sir ; I told you that then, and I can ’t tell you no 
more nowP 

But I know you can. See ! this letter releases you from 
your oath of silence.” 

“ No letter can ’t release me from no oath, sir, which I 
took upon the Bible,” persisted Miss Tabby. 

‘‘ Was there ever such fanaticism ! ” exclaimed Lyon Ber- 
ners, impatiently. 

“ I do n’t know what sort of a schism fanaticism is, sir, 
but I know I an’t left so far to my own devices as to be let 
to fall into any schisms, so long as I prays faithfully into the 
litany every Sunday to be delivered from all schisms.” 

“Heaven and earth, woman! That has nothing to do 
wdth it. Here is a man writing to release you from an oath 
you took to him to keep secrecy on a certain event, of which 
it is expedient now for you to speak. He frees you from 
your oath, I tell you.” 


WHAT THE LETTER CONTAINED. 299 


Which he can ’t do, sir, begging of his parding and 
yours. If so he I took an oath, which I do n’t acknowledge 
as I did take,” said Miss Tabh}’’, cautiously, ‘‘ he can ’t free 
me from it no more ’n no one else. And if so be you could 
put me on the rack like a heathen and torter me to death, 
I would die a marture to the faith rayther than break ray 
oath,” snivelled Miss Tabby. 

Who the demon wants to put you on the rack, you in- 
tolerable old idiot ? ” exclaimed Lyon Berners, driven past 
his patience by her obstinac3^ Will you, or will you not, 
tell me all the particulars of Sybil’s rescue ? ” 

“No, sir, I will not, because I cannot without breaking 
of my oath,” persisted Miss Tabby, with a constancy which 
compelled respect for her honesty, if it inspired contempt 
for her judgment. 

“Well, I hope also that you will never mention the mat- 
ter to any one else,” said Mr. Berners, one little comfort 
mingling with his disappointment. 

“ That I never will, sir ; but will suffer my tongue to be 
tored out by the roots first. If I have strength to withstand 
you, sir, do n’t you think as I shall have strength to with- 
stand others ? ” 

“ I think it quite likely. Well, Miss Tabby, 1 know 
you understand me, whether you will divulge anything to 
me or not, and so I shall soon give you certain instructions 
as freely as if there were an outspoken confidence between 
us,” said Mr. Berners, rising to leave the room. 

“That you may do, sir, with full faith in me,” answered 
Miss Tabby. 

And then Mr. Berners left her, and returned to his 
guests. 

Mr. Berners and his guests passed that Christmas even- 
ing, not in playing Christmas games, but in transacting 
important business. 

The three gentlemen excused themselves to the two 


800 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


ladies, and leaving them to practice a new duet together on 
the piano, withdrew to the library, where documents were 
drawn up giving lawyer Sheridan full powers to manage the 
estate in the absence of its proprietors. 

When these were duly signed, sealed, and delivered, and 
all the details of the agency and of the voyage had been 
thoroughlj" discussed, they returned to the drawing-room. 

It was now late, and the guests arose to take leave, but 
at Mr. Berners’ earnest invitation, they consented to re- 
main, not only for the night, but for the two days that their 
host would be at home. 

The next morning, after an early breakfast, Mr. Berners 
mounted his horse and rode over to the plantation where his 
child had been placed to nurse. He was determined, as a 
matter of prudence, not to divulge to the nurse the parent- 
age of the child. He knew that to do so w'ould start a furor 
of gossip and speculation that would be both unpleasant 
and inconvenient. 

On reaching the plantation, he rode up to the gate of the 
substantial stone cottage belonging to the overseer, alighted, 
tied his horse to a post, and went up to the house door and 
knocked. 

A rosy-cheeked girl of about twelve years of age opened 
the door. 

Is Mrs. Bugitt in ? ” he inquired. 

“ Yes, sir,” replied the girl, stretching wide the door to 
admit the visitor. 

Mr. Berners stepped into a very clean and comfortable 
room, where a woman sat with one young babe at her 
breast and another in the cradle beside her. 

She took her foot from the rocker of the cradle and 
arose with the babe still in her arms to meet the stranger. 

Mrs. Fugitt?” inquired Mr. Berners. 

“Yes, sir, that’s my name. Will you sit down? Betsy 
Ann, hand the gentleman a chair.” 


WHAT THE LETTER CONTAINED. 301 


The little girl brought forward a country made chip-bot- 
tom chair, and with a bow, the visitor seated himself. 

The woman also sat down,*v and waited in some little 
curiosity" to find out the object of the stranger’s visit. ** 

“ You have a young child at nurse ? he said. 

Yes, sir ; this one that I have upon my lap. That one 
in the cradle is m}^ own.” 

Are you strong enough to nurse two children ? ” in- 
quired Mr. Berners. 

Betsy Ann,” said the woman, turning to the little girl, 
“ call your sister Nancy ’Lizabeth in here.” 

The child went into a back kitchen, and returned with 
another child the counterpart of herself. 

‘‘ There, now ! You two stand right up there before the 
gentleman.” 

The children joined hands, and stood before Mr. Berners 
for inspection. 

There, now, sir ! You look at them.” 

“ They are very well worth looking at ; a pair of stout, 
rosy, healthy, happy lasses, I ’m sure,” said Mr. Berners, 
smiling at them, and feeling in his pocket for some loose 
coins. 

“ Well, sir, them ’s my twins. I nussed ’em both myself 
without any help from a bottle — either a bottle for them, sir, 
or a bottle for myself/’ said the mother, proudly. 

“They do you much credit, certainly,” said Mr. Berners, 
who had now found two half-eagles. 

“ Well, sir, they never had a day’s sickness in their lives. 
I showed ’em to you, sir, to prove as I could nuss two 
children successful.” 

“ I ’m convinced of it.” 

“ One of ’em is named Elizabeth Ann, and the other 
Ann Elizabeth. The same name because they ’re twins, 
sir, only put backwards and forwards like, so as to tell one 
gal's name from t’ other’s. And I call ’em Betsy Ann and 


802 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Nancy ’Lizabeth on week-days and work days ; and I call 
’em Elizabeth Ann and Ann Elizabeth on Sundays and 
company days.” 

“ Quite right,” said Mr. Berners, smiling. 

“ And now, gals, you may go,” said the mother. 

‘‘ Here, my dears ! Here is something to buy you a 
Christmas gift each,” said Mr. Berners, slipping the gold 
coins into the hands of the children. 

“There! thank the gentleman, and then run out and 
peel the potatoes and turnips. And be sure you do n’t lose 
your pennies,” said the woman, who had no idea that the 
children’s gifts had been half-eagles. 

The well-trained little girls obeyed their mother in every 
particular. And as soon as they had left the room, Mr. 
Berners turned to the woman and inquired : 

“ Are those fine children your only ones ? ” 

“ I never had any but them until about three months 
ago, when that boy in the cradle came to put a surprise on 
me. Look at him, sir ! An ’t he a hearty little chap for a 
three mouther ? ” 

“ Indeed he is ! ” acknowledged Mr. Berners, as he 
turned down the coverlet and gazed at the fat, rosy babe. 
“And now,” he continued, as he replaced the cover, “will 
you let me look at your nurse-child ? I — I am its guardi- 
an, and responsible for the expense of its rearing.” 

“ So I judged, sir, when I first saw you. The gentleman 
that brought the child to me, and gave me a hundred dol- 
lars with it, told me how, in about a couple of months, the 
guardian of the child would come to make further arrange- 
ments. And you ’re him, sir ? ” 

“ I am he,” gravely replied Lyon Berners, as he gazed 
fondly down on the face of his sleeping babe, and traced in 
the delicate features and silky black hair and faintly drawn 
black eye-brows the lineaments of its mother. 

“ W ell, sir, I can tell you, for your satisfaction, that the 
^ child is in good hands.” 


WHAT THE LETTER CONTAINED.' 803 

“I have no doubt of it. And,” he. con tinned, “after 
some hesitation, “ I can tell you, for your satisfaction, that 
the child is all right. She was born iu lawful wedlock.” 

“ I’m glad to hear that, for the child’s sake, sir ; though 
if what you tell me is true, as 1 suppose it is, I do n’t see 
why the parents can’t own their child.” 

“ There are good and sufficient reasons which may be 
made known to you at some future time,” replied Mr. Ber- 
ners. 

“ Humph ! then I s’pose it ’s a case of a secret marriage, 
that can ’t be acknowledged yet a while, upon account of 
offending rich parents, and being cut off from their proper- 
ty or something. I have heard of such things before now. 
Well, sir, I do n’t want to intrude on your secrets, and I 
know how to keep a still tongue in my head. And as for 
the baby, sir, she has made her own way into my heart, and 
whatever her parents have been and done, I shall love and 
nuss her as if she was my own.” 

“ You are a good woman, Mrs. Fugitt; and now to busi- 
ness. I, as guardian to that child, wish to make some defi- 
nite arrangement for her support for the next two years at 
least.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ Do you know lawyer Sheridan ? ” 

“ Of course I do, sir ; he drawed up the papers between 
the Colonel and my old man when my old man made an 
engagement with the Colonel to oversee the plantation for 
five years.” 

“Very well. This Mr. Sheridan will pay you quarterly 
installments of money amounting to six hundred dollars a 
year for the support of the child.” 

The overseer’s wife was a very simple-hearted woman, so 
she burst out, with her surprise : 

“ But that is a great deal of money, sir. More than 
twice too much.” 


804 


•TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


I do not think so. The child is entitled to much more, 
if she could use it. At any rate, that is her allowance. 
And here is the first quarterly payment in adv^ance,” said 
Mr. Berners, placing a roll of bank-notes on the woman’s 
lap. 

“ But, sir, I have n’t used a quarter part of what the 
other gentleman paid me. In truth, I only spent what I 
did to buy the baby’s clothes, of which she hadn’t a rag 
but what w'as on her when the other gentleman put her in 
in}^ arms.” 

So much the more reason I should advance you this 
money.” 

“ Why ? because I have got so much alread}^, sir ? ” 

— Because you are so simple and honest. Few people 
would believe in such simplicity and honesty, Mrs. Fugitt.” 

“Then Lord forgive ’em, sir.” 

“Amen. And now, Mrs. Fugitt, a last word, and then 
good-bye. If you should ever wish to communicate wdth 
me, you may do it by inclosing a letter to Mr. Sheridan, or 
sending a message by him.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ And now let me take another look at this little one.” 

“ But there is another thing, sir : W^hat is her name ? I 
asked the gentleman, and he said he did not know, but you 
would tell me.” 

“‘Her name?”’ repeated Lyon Berners, as he gazed 
down upon the face of the sleeping child — the prison-born 
child — “ Her name ? It is Ingemisca ; call her Ingeinisca.” 

“Yes, sir,” said the woman in a very low tone, for she 
was awed by the looks and words of the speaker— “ Yes, 
sir; but would you please to write it on a slip of paper? 
It is a strange, solemn sort of a sound, and I ’m sure I 
never could remember it.” 

Lyon Berners tore a page from his tablets, wrote the 
name in pencil, and handed it to her. 


WHAT THE LETTER CONTAINED. 305 


Then he kissed his infant daughter, breathed a silent 
blessing over her, and took his leave. 

He returned to Black Hall, well satisfied with the woman 
in whose care he had left his child. 

That afternoon he dined with his friends for the last 
time for many years. That evening, with their assistance, 
he concluded the very last business he had to transact, 
before leaving his home and country. 

Beatrix Pendleton had been busy all daj’, looking up and 
packing up Sybil’s costly jewels, laces, and shawls. Valua- 
ble as they all were, they filled but a small trunk, which 
!Miss Pendleton assured Mr. Berners he could easily put 
inside his great sea-chest without crowding out other 
things. 

Beatrix Pendleton and Minnie Sheridan volunteered to 
remain at Black Hall for a few daj’^s after the departure of 
the proprietor, to see that all things were properly set in 
order. 

Among the last arrangements made was that by which 
honest Robert Munson, the young soldier who had befriended 
Sybil Berners, was appointed assistant overseer of the plan- 
tation, with the use of a cottage and garden, and with a 
considerable salary. 

All the arrangements for the voyage of Mr. Berners, and 
the management of the manor during his absence, were 
completed that evening. 

The next morning Mr. Berners accompanied bj’- his 
friends. Captain Pendleton and lawyer Sheridan, set out for 
Blackville, to meet the stage-coach for Baltimore. 

There, at the stage-office, Mr. Berners took leave of 
lawyer Sheridan, but not of Captain Pendleton, who made 
up his mind, at the last moment, to accompany him as far 
as the sea-port, and to see him off on his voyage. 

After two days’ journey, the friends arrived safely in 
Baltimore. 

19 


306 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


On consulting the shipping list, they found the fast sail- 
ing clipper Dispatch, Captain Fleet, advertised to sail for 
Liverpool the same afternoon. 

Lyon Berners, with his friend, hastened to the agent to 
secure his passage, which he was so fortunate as to get. 

He had barely time to hurry his luggage ou board before 
the clipper set sail. 

The very last words addressed to Mr. Berners by his 
friend Captain Pendleton were these : 

“ Give our love to Mrs. Berners, and tell her that Beatrix 
and myself will follow you soon. Heaven bless you with 
good luck ! ( 


CHAPTEE XXIX. 

AFTER THE EXPATRIATION. 

And years went by, and the tale at last 

Was told as a sorrowful one long past. — M istletoe Bough. 

A WEEK after Lyon Berners went away Captain Pendle- 
ton resigned his commission in the arm}?-, placed the man- 
agement of his estate in the hands of lawyer Sheridan, and, 
accompanied br Miss Pendleton, left the neighborhood for 
Baltimore, whence he sailed for Liverpool. 

After this departure the secret of Sybil’s escape was 
known but to two persons in the valley — to Mr. Sheridan, 
whose very profession made him reticent, and to Miss 
Tabby, wlio would have died rather than have divulged it. 

Mr. Slieridan managed the manor. Miss Tabby kept the 
house, and both guarded the secret. 

But great was tlie wonder and wild were the conjectures 
among tlie people of the valley on the subjects of Sybil’s 
mysterious disappearance, Lyon’s sudden voyage, and Clem- 
ent and Beatrix Pendleton’s eccentric conduct in following 
him. 


AFTER THE EXPATRIATION. 807 


Opinions were as various as characters. 

Some came near the truth in expressing their belief that 
Sybil had been rescued on the night of the flood, secreted 
for awhile in the neighborhood, and then “ spirited ’’ away 
by her friends ; that she was safe in some foreign country, 
and that her husband and her two friends had gone to join 
her. 

Others whispered that Sybil had been drowned in the 
flood ; that Lj’on Berners, finding himself a widower, had 
proposed for Beatrix Pendleton, with whom he had always 
been in love, and that he had been accepted bj^ her ; that 
they had been anxious to marry immediately ; but ashamed 
to do so, so soon after the tragic death of Sybil, and in her 
own neighborhood ; and so they had gone abroad to be 
united, and to spend the first year .of their wedded lives. 

These and many other speculations were rife among the 
neighbors, and the Hallow Eve Mystery,” deepened by 
recent events, formed the subject of conversation of never- 
flagging interest, at everj’’ country fireside that winter. 

Ill the midst of all this. Miss Tabby Winterose lived her 
quiet, dull, whimpering life at Black Hall, carefully keeping 
tlie house, waited on by Aunt Mopsa, guarded by Joe, and 
solaced by little Cromartie, who had been left in her care. 

Dill}’’, Sj’bil's own maid, liad been taken abVoad bj' Miss 
Pendleton, which fact gave additional scandal to the 
gossips. 

“ Tlie impudence of her ! ” they said, to take the late 
Mrs. Berners’ very maid, before even she had fairly married 
the widower.” 

All this, when it came to Miss Tabbj^’s ears, made that 
faithful but desponding soul whimper all the more. 

Miss Tabb^" had but few recreations at Black Hall. 
Going to church every Sunday in the old carrj^all, with little 
Cro’ by her side and Joe on the box, was her “ most 
chiefest.” 


308 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Then once a month or so, she went. to take tea with her 
parents and sister ; or she walked over to spend an after- 
noon at the cottage occupied by Robert Munson, who had 
married Rachel, the pretty daughter of that Norfolk inn- 
keeper, who had been Lyon’s and Sybil’s host at the time 
of their first flight. 

And sometimes Miss Tabby had both these families np 
at Black Hall, to pass a day with her. 

But wherever Miss Tabby went, she always took little 
Cro’ ; and whoever came to the house had to make much of 
the child, or get little favor from his “ aunty.” 

As for Joe, Robert Munson, and other of Sybil’s devoted 
friends, they felt, in their secret hearts, that Sybil was safe 
in foreign parts, and that her husband and friends had gone 
to join her; but as no one had actually imparted this intel- 
ligence to them, they never talked over the subject except 
among themselves. 

Thus passed the winter ; but with the opening of the 
spring, an event occurred that for a while even superseded 
the “ Hallow Eve Mysterj",” in the fever of curiosity and 
interest it excited in the valley. 

The great Dubarry manor, so long held in abeyance, was 
claimed! — claimed by a gentleman in right of his wife — 
claimed by no less a person than Mr. Horace Blondelle, 
once the husband and afterwards the widower of that beau- 
tiful Rosa Blondelle who had been so mj’steriously mur- 
dered at Black Hall, and now the bridegroom of Gentiliska, 
the great-granddaughter and only lineal descendant and 
heiress of Philip Dubarry and Gentiliska his wife. 

During the investigation of this claim, Mr. and Mrs. 
Horace Blondelle occupied a handsome suite of apartments 
at the Blackville Hotel, and made themselves very popular 
b}’- the elegant little dinners and suppers they gave, and the 
like of which had never before been seen in that plain vil- 
lage. 


AFTER THE EXPATRIATION. 


309 


When their case came on for a hearing, there was hut 
little opposition to the claimants, whose legal right to the 
manor was soon proved by the documents they held^’in their 
possession, and firmly established. 

When the case was decided in their favor, Mr. Horace 
Blondelle rented Pendleton Park, which had been to let 
ever since the departure of its owner. 

And in that w^ell-furnished mansion on that well- 
cultivated plantation he settled down with his pretty 
young bride to the respectable life of a country gentleman. 

His residence in the neighborhood gave quite an impetus 
to the local business. 

The very first thing that he did, after his settlement at 
Pendleton Park, was to advertise, through the columns of 
the Blackville Banner,” that he intended to rebuild the 
Dubarry mansion, and was ready to employ the necessary 
artisans at liberal wages. 

This gave great satisfaction to the laboring classes, who 
were half their time pining in idleness, and the other half 
working at famine prices. 

But such a ^^reconstruction” was a gigantic undertak- 
ing. There was a wilderness to be cleared, a desert to be 
reclaimed, a mansion to be rebuilt, and a chapel to be 
restored. 

All the carpenters, stone-cutters, bricklayers, plasterers, 
painters and glaziers, upholsterers and decorators, as well 
as ornan euta! gardeners and agricultural laborers that could 
be found, were at once employed at generous wage^. 

And the work went on merrily, and the people blessed 
Horace Blondelle. 

But during the progress of the work, a discovery was 
made that changed the whole plan of the proprietor’s life. 

In the course of clearing the grounds, the workmen 
found a spring, whose water was so particularly nasty that 
they at once suspected it to possess curative qualities of the 
greatest value, and so reported it to the proprietor. 


310 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Horace Blondelle invited the local medical faculty to 
taste the waters of the spring, and their report was so fav- 
orable that he bottled up a gallon of it, and sent it to an 
eminent chemist of New York, to be analyzed. 

In due time the analysis was returned. The water of 
the spring, it showed, was strongly impregnated with a half 
dozen, more or less, of he most nauseous minerals known to 
the pharmaceutists, and therefore were of the highest 
medicinal virtues. 

The recent discovery of this invaluable spring on the 
home grounds, together with the long known existence of 
the magnificent cavern, or chain of caverns, in the adjacent 
mountains, determined Mr. Horace Blondelle to alter his 
whole scheme — to abandon the role of country gentleman, 
which a very short experience proved to be too “slow’’ for 
his “fast” tastes, and to adopt that of the proprietor of a 
great watering-place, and summer resort. 

And so, instead of rebuilding the family mansion, he 
built a large hotel on the Dubarry manor, and instead of 
restoring the chapel, he erected a pavilion over the spring. 

This was not only at the time a very popular measure, but 
it proved in the event a very great success. 

That summer and autumn saw other changes in the 
valley. 

First old Mr Winterose, the overseer of the Black Valley 
manor, died a calm and Christian death. 

Young Bobert Munson succeeded him in office. 

Next lawyer Sheridan received an appointment from the 
President as consul at a certain English seaport; and, no 
doubt with the consent of the proprietors, he transferred the 
management of the Black Valley manor to old lawj^er 
Closeby of Blackville. And then, with his sister, he went 
abroad. 

Then, on the thirty-first of October of that year, old 
Mrs. Winterose and her eldest daughter Libby received an 


AFTER THE EXPATRIATION. 


311 


order to remove from their cottage and take up their resi- 
dence with Miss Tabby at Black Hall. 

The next spring, Mr. and Mrs. Horace Blondelle removed 
to the “Dubarry Hotel,” at the “Dubarry AVhite Sulphur 
Springs,” as the place was now christened, and there they 
commenced preparations for the summer campaign. 

Mr. Horace Blondelle, was much, too “sharp” not to un- 
derstand the importance of advertising. He advertised 
very largely in the newspapers, and he also employed agents 
to distribute beautiful little illustrated books, descriptive of 
the various attractions of the “ Dubarry White Sulphur 
Springs,” the salubrious and delightful climate, the sublime 
and beautiful scenery, the home comforts of the hotel, and 
the healing powers of the water. 

All these were so successfully set forth that even in this 
first season the house was so well filled wdth guests that the 
proprietor determined that, before another season should roll 
around, he would build a hundred or so of cottages to ac- 
commodate the great accession of visitors he had every 
reason to expect. 

Another brisk season of work blessed the poor people of 
the place. And by the next summer a hundred and fifty 
white cottages were here and there on the rocks, in the 
woods, by the streams, or in the glens around the great 
hotel ; and the “Dubarry White Sulphur Springs” grew to 
look like a thriving village on the mountains. 

The profits justified the expenditures; that second 
summer the place was crowded with visitors ; and the lonely 
and quiet neighborhood of the Black Valley became, for the 
time, as populous and as noisy as is now Niagara or New- 
port. 

In fact, from the advent of Mr. Horace Blondelle, and 
the inauguration of the “ Dubarry White Sulphur Springs,” 
the whole character of the place was changed.” 

All summer, from the first of June to the first of Sep- 


812 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


tember, it would be a scene of fashion, gayety, confusion, 
and excitement. 

But all the winter, from the first of October until the 
first of June, it is happily true that it would return to its 
aboriginal solitude and stillness. 

Mr. Horace Blondelle was making money very fast in- 
deed. 

The life suited him. Many people called him a gambler 
and a blackleg, and said that he fleeced his guests in more 
w’ays than one. 

The haughtiest among the old aristocratic families cut 
him, not because he was a gambler — for, oh dear ! it too often 
happened that their own fathers, brothers, husbands, or 
sons were gamblers ! — but because he kept a hotel and took 
in money ! 

Notwithstanding this exclusion from companionship with 
certain families, Mr. Horace Blondelle led a very gay, 
happy, and prosperous life. 

We see and grieve over this sort of thing very frequently 
in the course of our lives. We fret that the wicked man 
should flourish like a green bay tree,” and we forget that 
the time must come when he will be cut down and cast into 
the fire. 

That time was surely coming for Mr. Horace Blondelle. 

Meanwhile he “ flourished.” 

The third season of the ^^Dubarry White Sulphur 
Springs,” was even more successful than its forerunners had 
been. 

People were possessed with a furor for the nasty waters 
and flocked by thousands to the neighborhood. 

But the autumn of that year was marked by other events 
of more importance to this story. 

First, in the opening of the fall term of the Blackville 
Academy for young gentlemen, lawyer Closeby came to 
Black Hall, armed with the authority of Mr. Lyon Berners, 


GUARDIANS OF THE OLD HOUSE. 313 


and straightway took little Cromartie, now a lad of seven 
years of age, out of the hands of Miss Tabby, and placed 
him in those of Dr. and Mrs. Smith, dominie and matron 
of the academy, for education. 

Miss Tabby mourned over the partial loss of her favorite, 
but was consoled on the very next Plallow Eve, when a 
beautiful babe was left at her door. 

And now that years have passed, we approach the time 
when the great Hallow Eve Mystery was destined to be a 
mystery no longer. 


CHAPTER XXX. 

THE GUARDIANS OF THE OLD HOUSE. 

On every lip a speechless horror hung. 

On every brow the burden of affliction; 

The old ancestral spirits knew and felt 
The house’s malediction. — Thomas Hood. 

Time does but deepen the gloom that hangs over an old 
mansion where a heinous crime has been committed, an awful 
tragedy enacted. 

As the years darkened over the old Black Hall, the house 
fell to be regarded as a place haunted and accursed. 

But as there is a certain weird attraction in the horrible, 
the old Black Hall came to be the greatest object of morbid- 
interest in the neighborhood, greater even than the magnifi- 
cent caverns, or the miraculous springs. 

The crowds of visitors who came down to the “ Dubarry 
"White Sulphur” every summer, after tasting the waters of 
the spring and exploring the beauties of the caverns, inva- 
riably drove down the banks of the Black River to where 
it broadened into the Black Lake, from whose dark borders 
arose the sombre wood that shadowed the mountain’s side. 


814 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


and from wliose obscure depths loomed up the gloomy struc- 
ture now known as Black Hall, the deserted home of the 
haught}" Berners, the haunted and accursed mansion. 

Here, on the murky borders of the lake, the visitors 
would draw up their carriages, to sit and gaze upon the 
fatal edifice, and listen to the story of that awful Hallow 
Eve, when the fierj’-hearted young wife was driven by jeal- 
ousy to desperation, and her fair young rival was murdered 
in her chamber. 

“And on every Hallow Eve,” their informant would 
continue — “ on every Hallow Eve, at midnight deep, the 
spirit of the murdered guest might be seen flying through 
the house pursued b^’- the spirit of the vengeful wife.” 

Visitors never penetrated into the wood that surrounded 
and nearly concealed the mansion, much less ventured near 
that mansion itself. 

The place was guarded by three old women, they were 
told, weird as Macbeth’s witches, and who discouraged all 
approach to their abode. 

So solitar}^ and deserted were the house and its inmates, 
that every path leading through the forest towards its doors 
was overgrown and obliterated, except one — a little narrow 
bridle-path leading from the house through the woods, and 
out upon the Blackville road. This was kept open by the 
weekly rides of old Joe, who went every Saturday to the vil- 
lage to lay in the groceries for the use of the familj’’ ; by the 
three old women, who, seated on their safe old horses, went 
in solemn procession everj^ Sunday to church ; by the jmung 
Cromartie, who came trotting on his fiery steed once a 
month to visit his old frie’nds ; and by old lawyer Closeby, 
who came ambling on his sedate cob every quarter-day to 
inspect the premises and pay the people. 

No other passengers but these ever disturbed the stillness 
of the forest path ; no other forms than these ever darkened 
the doors of Black Hall. A gloomy place to live in ! 


GUARDIANS OF THE OLD HOUSE. 315 


gloomy enough for the three quiet old women — too gloomy 
for the bright young girl who was growing up to woman- 
hood under its shadows. 

And never was the place darker, drearier, or more de- 
pressing in its aspect than on a certain Hallow Eve, some 
fifteen years or more after the disappearance of Sybil Ber- 
ners and the self-expatriation of her devoted friends. 

All day long the sky had been overcast by low, dark 
leaden-hued clouds ; the rain had fallen in dull drizzle ; and 
when the vailed sun sunk beneath the horizon, the darkness 
of night was added to the darkness of clouds. 

A dismal night ! dismal without, and even more dismal 
within! 

The three old guardians of the premises lived in the left 
wing of the house, which corresponded exactly with the right 
wing once occupied on the first floor by the unfortunate 
Bosa Blondelle with her child and nurse, and on the second 
floor by Sybil Berners and her maid. 

The old women had chosen the left vung partly because 
it had always been occupied by Miss Tabb}^, who used the 
lower floor for housekeeper’s room and store-room, and the 
second floor as a bedchamber and linen closet, but chiejiy 
because it was the furthest removed from the right wing, 
the scene of the murder, and now the rumored resort of 
ghosts. 

On this dismal but eventful Hallow Eve of which I now 
write, the three old women, their early tea over, were 
gathered around the fire in the lower room of this left 

o 

wing. 

It was a long, low room, with a broad fireplace in the 
lower end. It was furnished in very plain country style. 
The walls were colored with a red ochre wash somewhat 
duller than paint. The windows had blinds made of cheap 
flowered wall paper. The floor was covered with a plaid 
woolen caipet, the work of old Mrs. Winterose’s wheel and 


816 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


loom. A corner cupboard with glass doors, tbrougb whicli 
could be seen rows of blue delf dishes and piles of white 
tea-cups and saucers, occupied the corner on the right of the 
fireplace; the old-fashioned, coffin-like, tall eight-day clock 
stood in the corner on the left-hand side. Tlag-bottomed 
wooden chairs flanked the walls. At the upper end of the 
room stood an old-time chest of drawers. On the right-hand 
corner of this end, a door opened upon a flight of stairs 
leading to the floor above. On the left-hand corner a door 
opened into a back room, with a little back porch, vine 
covered. 

There was a large spinning-wheel near the stair door, and 
at it the young ward of Mrs. Winterose stood spinning. 

Before the fire stood a plain deal table, and on it a brass 
candlestick supporting one tallow candle, that gave but a 
dim light to the three old ladies wha sat before the dull, 
smouldering green wood fire and worked. Old Mrs. Win- 
terose occupied her arm-chair, between the end of the table 
and the fireside near the corner cupboard. She was carding 
rolls of white- wool for the spinner. 

Miss Libby sat at the other end of the table, reeling off 
blue yarn from broaches that had just been drawn off the 
spindle. 

Miss Tabby was squeezed into the chimney corner next 
her sister, knitting a gray stocking. 

There was a deep silence, broken only by the sighing of 
the w’ind through the leafless trees without, the pattering of 
the rain against the windows, the whirr of the spinning- 
wheel at the foot of the stairs, the simmering of the green 
logs that refused to blaze, and the audible snivelling of Miss 
Tabby. 

The silence grew so oppressive that Miss Tabby, like the 
child in the Quaker meeting, felt that she must speak, or 
sob, or suffocate. 

“Hallow Eve again, she sighed, “it have come round 


GUARDIANS OF THE OLD HOUSE. 317 

once more since that awful niglit, which I shall never be rid 
on seeing it before me — no, not if I live to be as old as 
Methusalah ! And oh, what gloomy weather ! How the 
wind do moan and the rain do pour 'round the old house ! 
Just like heaving sighs and steaming tears! And as for 
me, I never feel like nothing but sighs and tears myself 
whenever this most doleful night comes round again." 

And suiting the action to the word, the speaker drew a 
deep breath and wiped her eyes. 

Tabby, j^ou ’re alwaj's a whimpering. When 'tan’t about 
one thing ’tis about another. Seems to me a woman of 3’^our 
age, turned fifty, ought to have more sense I " sharpl}" com- 
mented old Mrs. Winterose, as she took a roll of wool from 
lier card and placed it softlj'' on a pile of others that lay upon 
the table. 

I can 't help of it, mother. I can 't, indeed. Whenever 
this most doleful night do come round again, I feel that low 
sperreted I do n’t know what to do. And it is just such a 
night as that night was. Eveiything so miserable, outside 
and in. The wind moaning and the rain drizzling out 
there, and in here the fire not burning,^but just smouldering 
and smoking as if it was low-sperreted too ! ’’ sighed Miss 
Tabb3^ 

“ I ’ll soon raise the fire’s sperrits," said the old lady, 
briskly rising and seizing the poker, and giving the logs a 
good lunge and lift, that sent up a shower of sparks and a 
sheet of flame, lighting the whole room with the brightness 
of day. 

The effect was as transient as it was brilliant, however. 
The sparks expired in their upward flight, and the flame died 
down again, leaving the logs simmering as before. 

“ There, now, 3mu see how it is, mother. The very fire 
feels the time," sighed Miss Tabby. 

“Fiddle I it is only because the wood is green. I ’ll cure 
that too. I ’ll make lame-legged Joe gather a heap of pine 


818 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


cones, that will burn the greenest wood as ever sulked on a 
hearth,” chirped the blithe old lady, as she set the poker in 
its place. 

And then she went to the hack door of the back room, and 
standing on the covered porch, called out : 

Joe, Joe, fetch in a basket of pine cones to make the fire 
burn ! ” 

A rumbling noise a little resembling a human voice was 
heard in the distance, and the old lady shut the door, returned 
to her seat, and resumed her reeling. 

“I — don’t feel to think it is the firewood, mother; I — I 
think it is the souls,” slowly and solemnly announced Miss 
Libby, who had not spoken before. 

“ The what ? What in patience are you talking about, 
Libbj" ? ” severely demanded the old lady, as she briskly 
wound off her yarn. 

“ The souls, mother, the souls — the souls that do wander 
about without rest on this awful night.” 

Well, I do think,” gravely began the aged woman, lay- 
ing down the ball she was winding, and taking off her spec- 
tacles, that she might speak with the more impressiveness, 
“ I do really think, of all the foolish women in this foolish 
world, my two daughters is the foolishest ! Here ’s Tabby 
always whimpering about the sorrowful things in this world, 
and Libby always whispering about the supernatural things 
in t’other ! If you had both on you married twenty or thirty 
years ago, you would n’t be so full of whimsies now ! But, 
Libby, as the oldest of the two, and a woman nigh sixty 
years of age, you really ought to set a better example to your 
sister.” 

And having delivered this little lecture, old Mrs. Win- 
terose replaced her spectacles on her nose, and resumed her 
reeling. 

It ’s all very well for you to talk that a way, mother, and 
it ’s all very right ; but for all that, you know as how the 


GUARDIANS OF THE OLD HOUSE. 319 

old folks do say, as on this awful night, of all the nights in 
the year, the ‘ churchyards yawn and the graves give up 
their dead,’ and the unsheltered souls do wander restlessly 
over the earth ; and though we ma}’’ not see them, they 
come in at our doors and stand beside us or hover over us all 
the night. Ugh ! It do make me feel as if ice water was 
a trickling down my backbone only to think of it ! Tor 
what if as how her soul was a wandering about here now !” 
continued Miss Libby, solemnly clasping her hands and roll- 
ing up her pale-blue eyes. ‘‘ Yes ! what if as how her soul 
was a wandering about here now — here, where, all unpre- 
pared to go, on just such a dismal Hallow Eve as this, it was 
wiolently druv out’n her body ! All ! good land ! what was 
that ? ” suddenly exclaimed Miss Libby, breaking off with a 
half-suppressed scream. 

“ It was nothing but Gem’s wheel stopping suddenly, as 
her thread snapped, you goose,” said the old lady. 

Ah ! but it sounded just like an awful groan, as it 
might be an echo of her dying groan as her soul fled from 
the body, and re wived by memory, if so be she should be 
walking now,” shuddered Miss Libby. 

“ And surely, if any soul ever did wander over the earth 
anywhere, at any time, her soul, of all souls, would wander 
in this place of all places, on this night of all nights, when 
she — ” 

“ Hush, for Heaven’s dear sake, both of you ! ” exclaim- 
ed the old lady. “ Tabby is so sentimental and Libby is so 
superstitious, that what with the snivelling of one of you 
and the shuddering of the other, and the talking of both, I 
should get the horrors myself if it were n’t for Gem, my 
bright Gem there, humming a tune to her humming 
wheel ! ” said the old lady, with an affectionate glance to- 
wards the jmung girl. “And I wonder,” she added, 
“ what has become of Joe ? I should n’t wonder if the 
poor fellow had gone out to the pine woods to collect the 


820 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


cones. Blit now, Tabby and Libby, let me hear no more 
of 3^our snivelling and sliivering.^^ 

“But I can’t help of it, mother. should die if I 
did n’t cry. Hallow Eve, especially a dark, drizzly, windy, 
dreary Hallow Eve like this, always brings back that awful 
night so wividly again. I seem to see it all again. I seem 
to see my child, raging and burning like the Spirit of Fire 
she called herself. I seem to hear that piercing shriek that 
woke up all the house. I seem to meet that "living form in 
the flowing white dress, and with the scared and pallid face. 
I seem to feel the hot blood flowing down upon my hands 
and face, as I caught her in my arras and tried to stop her, 
when she broke from me and fled screaming into the libra- 
ry, and threw herself upon Ljmn Berners’ breast, dying. 
How can I help it ? How can I help it ? ” cried Miss 
Tabb}'’ with a burst of tears. 

“ It is her spirit a hovering over you, and impressing on 
you, Tabitha,” solemnly whispered Miss Libby. 

“ I should n’t wonder ! no, I should n’t wonder the least 
in the world,” assented Miss Tabby, with a serious nod of 
her head. 

“ And remember. Tabby, that her murderer is still at 
large, and her spirit cannot rest until that murderer is 
brought to justice,” whispered Miss Libby. 

“Ah, but who was her murderer? Surely Elizabeth 
Winterose, you do not dare to hint as it was my darling, 
that beautiful and noble lady wdio was so nearly executed 
for the crime she never could have committed ? ” demanded 
Miss Tabby, with awful gravity. 

“ Tabitha Winterose, you know I do n’t,” answered Miss 
Libb^y, in solemn indignation. 

“ I ’m glad to hear jmu say so, for she never did it, nor 
yet could have done it, though she had cause enough, poor 
dear ! cause enough to go raving mad with jealousy, and to 
hate her rival unto death, if ever a lady had. But she 


GUARDIANS OF THE OLD HOUSE. 321 

never was that poor woman’s death, though well the woman 
might have deserved it at her hands. But she never did 
it ! No, she never did it ! ” reiterated Miss Tabby, with 
many vain repetitions, as she wiped her faded blue eyes. 

“ And if Bosa Blondelle’s spirit cannot rest in her grave, 
it an ’t so much because her rale murderer is at large, as it 
is because Sybil Berners, her benefactress, as she wronged 
so ungratefully when she was alive, is now falsely accused 
of her death,” whispered Miss Libby. 

Yes, and would a been just as falsely executed for it 
too, if she had n’t a been reskeed on that dreadful night of 
the flood. And where is she now ? Where is the last of 
the Berners now ? An exile and a wanderer over the face 
of the earth! A fugitive from justice, they call her ! ^ A 

fugitive from justice ! ’ when all she needs to make her 
happy in this world, if she still lives in it, is jest simple jus- 
tice. Oh ! I shall never, never forget that awful night of 
the storm and flood, when with her infant of a few hours 
old, which they had waited for it to be born before they 
meant to murder her, she was suddenly snatched out of the 
flooded prison and carried away from sight, as if the waters 
had swallowed her! And that was the second horrible 
Hallow Eve of my life ! ” sobbed Miss Tabby. 

Hush ! hush ! why harp upon the horrors that happen- 
ed so many years ago ? ‘ What ’s done is done,’ and can ’t 

be undone,” urged the old lady. 

“ I know it, mother ; but it is some sort o’ relief to talk 
— it keeps me from thinking too deep about — 

About what. Tabby ? Do n’t be a fool ! ” 

“About this, then ; as there never was no dreadful thing 
ever happened to us as did n’t happen to happen on a dark, 
drizzly, dreary Hallow Eve ! ” whimpered Miss Tabby. 

“ It is a fatality !” whispered Miss Libby. 

“ It is a fiddlestick ! ” snapped the old lady. 

“ Oh, mother, mother, you can ’t dispute it ! Wasn’t it 


322 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


on a Hallow Eve at night that Eosa Blondelle, sleeping 
calmly in her bed, was mysteriously murdered ? inquired 
Miss Tabby. 

“ Yes, yes,” impatiently admitted the old lady. 

“And wasn’t it that same night in the storm that Sybil 
Berners fled away from her home, some said driven mad by 
horror, and some said by remorse ? ” 

“ Oh yes ! ” sighed the old lady ; “ and that was the 
worst thing as ever she did in her life, for her flight was 
taken as a proof of conscious guilt. I was very sorry she 
fled.” 

“Yes, but she was persuaded by those as was wiser than 
we. And besides, what could she do but fly, when the evi- 
dence was so strong against her ? so strong that everybody 
believed her guilty? so strong that even when she came 
forrard and give herself up, it convicted her, and she was 
doomed to death ! that beautiful, noble lady ! and only 
spared until she could bring her babe into the world — her 
babe born in the condemned cell. 

“ I know it, I know it; but for all that, it was her first 
flight that prejudiced people’s minds against her.” 

“And do you remember, mother, that awful night when 
the child was born in the prison ? You and I and the 
prison doctor was with her in that stone cell ! And oh, how 
we prayed that she might die ! But she was strong, and 
could not die, nor could the babe. Both lived.” 

“ Yes, thank Heaven ! despite our short-sighted, sinful 
prayers, both lived,” fervently exclaimed Mrs. Winterose. 

“ But that awful night of storm and flood, when the con- 
demned mother gave birth to the child in the condemned 
cell, that awful night was also Hallow Eve, and do you 
mind how, when all was over, and the baby was dressed and 
the mother was lying in stupor, how you had to leave us, 
and go away in the storm to tend my father’s sick-bed ? ” 

“ Ah, phild, do n’t I remember it all ! ” 


GUARDIANS OF THE OLD HOUSE. 823 


And now I ’m going to tell you what happened after you 
left ! ” 

Why, Tabby, you never would tell us before,” said Mrs, 
Winterose, taking off her spectacles and becoming very at- 
tentive. 

“No, mother, .because I was bound by an oath. It is 
true, the man I made the oath to released me from keeping 
of it ! But still I never did feel free to tell all I knew until 
to-night.” 

“ And why to-night. Tabby ? ” 

“ Because it is borne in upon my mind that something 
will happen on this very Hallow Eve to clear up the whole 
mystery, that I feel free to reveal my part of it ! ” 

“But what makes you feel as if something was going to 
happen to reveal the secret, Tabby ? ” inquired her mother. 

Because I had a dream last night as foretold it ! I 
dreamed as I was a walking in the haunted wing, in the 
wery room where Rosa Blondelle was murdered, and sud- 
denly the sun shone full into the room, lighting it up like 
noon-day.” 

“ And to dream of the sun shining into a room, is a sure 
sign of the revelation of secrets and the discovery of hidden 
things,” said Miss Libby, mysteriously. 

“ Stuff and nonsense about dreams and visions ! ” sharply 
exclaimed Mrs. Winterose ; “ but whatever has caused you 
to change your mind about Mrs. Berners’ reskee, I shall be 
very glad to hear the particulars, Tabby ; so go on.” 

“ Well, goodness knows there an’t much after all, as I 
have to tell, but you shall hear it! Well, soon after you 
left, mother, the prison doctor he got up to go home ; and 
he asked Mr. Berners, who had been waiting out in the 
lobby to hear from his wife, if he would go along with him 
to bring back some medicine; and Mr. Berners and him 
they both went out in the storm, and oh, how it was a storm- 
ing to be sure I ” 


824 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Yes, that it was I ” assented Mrs. Winterose. I 
thought as I should never a got through it myself! 

“ Well, I sat there hour after hour, holding the new-born 
baby in my lap, watching the unconscious mother and wait- 
ing for Mr. Berners to come back with the medicine. Well, 
I might a waited 1 ” 

“ Yes, for there was no getting back that night 1 put in 
the old lady. 

“No, for the storm got worse and worse! The rain 
poured, the wind howled, the waters rose ! Oh, what a hor- 
rible night ! It was as if the end of all things was come, 
and the world was about to be destroyed by water, instead 
of by fire ! ” 

“I know what sort of a night it was. Tabby. I can 
never forget it ! Tell me how Sybil Berners was res- 
keed ? ” said Mrs. Winterose, impatiently. 

“ I am a telling of you as fast as ever I can ; which she 
never would a been reskeed neither, if it had n’t a been for 
that there blessed flood, which you do n’t even want me to 
tell about,” complained Miss Tabby. 

“ Tell me about the reskee ! ” commanded Mrs. Winte- 
rose, peremptorily. 

“Well, then, just as I had discovered as the waters had 
ris’ almost up to the level of the windows, and was even 
oozing through the walls like dew, and rising higher every 
minute, and I was' in deadly fear of our lives, and screech- 
ing as loud as I could screech, for some one to come and let 
us out, which nobody could hear us because of the hollering, 
and bawling, and running, and racing, and banging, and 
slamming of doors and windows, and all the rout and rum- 
pus made by the people as were trying to save their own 
lives, suddenly the window was busted in. And before I 
had time to say my prayers, in jumped a big man followed 
by a little man.” 

“ Lor ! exclaimed Mrs. Winterose and Miss Libby, in a 
breath. 


GUARDIANS OF THE OLD HOUSE. 325 

And the big man, in all his haste and hurry, he took 
her np, Sybil, as tenderly, and wrapped her up as carefully 
as if he had a been her mother. He cussed some about the 
babj^ which was a sort of surprise to him ; but Raphael — ” 
Raphael ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Winterose and Miss Libby, 
in a breath. 

“ Yes, Raphael ! He was the little man I soon discov- 
ered. Raphael pleaded for the baby, and so the big man 
he let him save her ; but he said how he must leave the ‘ole 
^oman ^ meaning me, to be drownded, though goodness 
knows, for that matter, I was n’t so old as to be tired of life, 
being only just turned of thirty-three — ” 

“ Oh, bother about your age, Tabby ! tell us about the 
reskee ! ” snapped her mother. 

“ An’t I a telling of you as fast as I can ? But he did 
call me an ole ’oman, and me not tliirty-four then, which I 
would say it if I was to die for it, and he would a left me to 
be drownded, but Raphael he pled for me like he did for 
the baby, and the waters was rising higher and higher, and 
the uproar in the prison was getting louder and louder, and 
the big man lie swore at Raphael, and told him to fetch 
me on ; but first he made me swear on the Bible never to 
tell how we was reskeed. Then he took us off on the boat, 
which I tell you, mother, it was just awful to be a riding on 
the high floods over the tops of the houses. It had done 
raining, which was a good thing for my poor child, who was 
well wrapped up also. They rowed me up to the Quarries, 
and put me out high, and on a ledge of the mountain, and 
rowed away with my child, and that ’s the last I ever saw 
or heard of her or her baby until that letter come to Mr. 
Berners, a telling of him how she was took off to foreign 
parts, and a releasing of me from mj'^ oath of silence.” 

“But you never told us, for all that.” 

“ Because, as I said afore, I never felt free to do it until 
to-night, and to-night it is borne in upon my mind as some- 
thing will Jiappen to clear up that Hallow Eve mystery.” 


826 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


“ It is a presentiment,” said Miss Libbv, solemnly. 

It is a fiddle ! ” snapped the old lady. 

“ You may call it a fiddle, mother, but I believe you 
know more about the fate of Mrs. Berners and her baby too, 
than you are willing to tell,” said Miss Libby. 

‘‘ May be I do, and may be I do n’t,” answered the old 
lady. Then suddenly breaking out angrily, she exclaimed, 
“ I told you both before as I did n’t want to talk of these 
here horrid ewents ! And I do n’t ! And here you draw 
me on to talk of them, whether or no I And look at Gem 
there^^ she added, lowering her voice, and directing her 
glance towards the girl at the spinning-wheel ; “ she knows 
nothing about these dreadful doings, and ought to know 
nothing about them. Yet there she stands, with her wheel 
still, and she a drinking down every word.” 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


GE3I. 


A maiden meek, with solemn, steadfast eyes, 

Full of eternal constancy and faith. 

And smiling lips, through whose soft portal sighs 
Troth’s holy voice, with every balmy breath.— Mm. Rexblx. 

Three pair of eyes were turned towards Gem. She was 
well worth looking at, as she stood there beside the pausing 
wheel, with the thread of yarn suspended in her band be- 
tween the delicate forefinger and thumb, and with her large, 
luminous dark eyes, fixed upon the face of the speaker. 
Yes, look at Gem — a slight, elegant creature, whose form 
was perfect symmetry, whose every motion was perfect 
grace, whose small stately head was covered with shining 
jet-black ringlets that hung down each side and half shaded 
a bright young face of exceeding beauty — an oval face, with 


GEM. 


327 


regular features, large, soft, dark-blue eyes, vailed with 
tiiick, long lashes, and arched over by slender, jet-black 
brows, and with roseate cheeks and crimson lips. This 'will 
do for a pen and ink sketch ; but how can I picture the 
light, the life, the gleam and glow of that brilliant and 
beautiful countenance ? 

She wore a plain brown linsey dress, that perfectly fitted 
her symmetrical form ; and this rustic suit was relieved by 
a little linen collar that clasped her throat, and a pair of 
little white linen cuffs that bound her wrists. 

The setting was plain enough, but the gem was a very 
rich and rare jewel, whoever might be destined to wear it. 

Only for an instant she stood thus, like a bright and beau- 
tiful image, and then she suddenly darted across the room, 
sunk down beside the old lady’s chair, and looking up into 
her face, said : 

Grandma ! I know more of that awful tragedy than you 
think I do. Of course, in all these years, I have chanced 
to hear much from the talk of women and children seen in 
church or in school. And to-night I have heard too much 
from you, not now to be told more ! What is all this mys- 
tery and horror connected with this anniversary of Hallow 
Eve ? And — who am I ? ” 

You are my own darling child, Gem ! ” answered the old 
lady, in a trembling voice. 

I know that I am your foster-child, but that is all I, or 
any one else except you, seems to knew about me ! But you 
know who I am, grandma ! How tell me — who am I ? ” she 
pleaded, taking the withered old hands within her own, and 
gazing imploringly up into the kind old eyes that looked 
compassionately down on hers. 

“ You are my pet, and my darling, and my blessing, 
Gem ! That is enough for you to know ! ” answered the old 
lady, still in a tremulous tone. 

Am I that prison-born child ? Am I the daughter of 


828 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


that poor lady who was crucified and cast out among human 
creatures ? Am I ? Am I ? persisted the young girl be- 
seechingly, while Miss Tabby wept and Miss Libby moaned. 

“Gem,” said the aged woman gravely, and sorrowfully 
pressing the maiden’s hands, “ Gem, have I been a good 
grandma to you ? ” 

“ Oh, you have ! you have ! ” answered the young girl, 
earnestly. 

“ And can you still trust me to be good to you, and true 
to your best interests ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, yes, yes ! dear grandma ! ” 

“ Then, my own littte one, trust me, by obeying me, when 
I tell you to ask me no questions about yourself ; because I 
cannot answer them yet a while. Will you do so, my little 
Gem?” 

“ Yes, yes, I will ! I will ! But, dear granny, I know ! I 
know ! although you are too tender to tell me, I know ! ” 

“ Know — what. Gem ? ” questioned Mrs. Winterose, in 
alarm. 

“ I know that some mystery and horror hung over my 
birth — hangs over my life ! I have known this a long time. 
They call me ^ Ingemisca ; ’ that means, ^ Bewail ! Bewail I ’ 
Some one bewailed my birth, and bade me bewail it ! Some 
one sung the refrain of a requiem at my baptism, as they 
do at the burial of others ! And oh, grandma ! to-night I 
to-night ! in what has reached my ears, I have found a clue 
to the solving of my mystery ! ” 

“ Gem ! Gem ! if ever I have been kind to you, mind me 
now! Never think, never speak of these things again. 
Look on yourself as my child, and nothing more,” urged 
the old lady with so much earnestness, and even pain, that 
her pet hastened to caress her, and to say : 

“ I will mind you as much as I can, best, dearest granny ! 
I will never speak of this again until you give me leave.” 

“ That is my darling girl 1 And now put away your 


GEM. 


829 


wheel and come and sit down here, and let us have a pleas- 
ant talk after all this solemn nonsense. And when Joe 
comes in — Where the mischief is that fellow, and why 
do n’t he come with the cones, I wonder ? Anyhow, when 
he does come I will send him down in the cellar for some 
nuts and apples, and we will have a little feast.” 

Gem sat back her wheel, and came and took her seat on 
a stool at the old lady’s feet. 

Gem,” said Mrs. Winterose, passing her hand through 
the girl’s dark curls, “ my two daughters have been horrify- 
ing us by telling of some awful events that happened on 
certain long past Hallow Eves. But they have said 
nothing of the pleasant things that have happened on 
later Hallow Eves ! They have n’t said a word of that 
Hallow Eve when me and my Libby was a sitting in our 
cabin without provisions, and a wondering where the 
money to buy them was to come from, and how long the 
agent would let us live there, seeing as we had no right, 
after my old man, who was the overseer, died, when in 
walks the agent himself, and offers of us a home rent free 
here, with the use of the garden, the orchard, and the 
wood, with a small salary besides, if so be we would come 
here and live with Tabby, and help keep rats and thieves 
and rust and mould out of the old house. You may 
depend. Gem, as we jumped at the offer, and came here 
the very next day.” 

“That was all the kindness of my child! It didn’t 
need nobody but me to do all that. But, my sweet angel, 
she wanted to provide for you and Libby, and to make us 
all comfortable and happy together,” said Miss Tabby. 

“ Yes, I know. Heaven bless her, wherever she is ! 
And that was a happy Hallow Eve. But the next one was 
even happier. Gem.” 

“Yes, dear grandma, I know,” smiled the girl. 

“ Yes, for just one year from that time, when Hallow 


830 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Eve came around again, I got up early in the morning, as 
I used to do then as well as now, and I came down into 
this very room, and went through to that back door and 
into the back room, and opened the back porch door to let 
in the morning air, and there on the porch with the sun 
shining bright on the scarlet seed-pods of the rose vine% all 
over the shed, there, like a cradle, stood a large wicker 
basket, with a two year old baby comfortably tucked up 
into it, and fast asleep.’’ 

That was I,” said the maiden. 

“Yes, Gem, it was you. But just think of my astonish- 
ment when I found you there ! I stared at you, and was 
as ’fraid to touch you at fust as if you ’d been a bombshell 
to blow me up ! I rubbed my eyes to see if I was awake. 
I crept up to you and shrank back from you ever so many 
times, before I could venture to touch you. Then I saw a 
card tied to the handle of the basket. I took it off, put on 
my specks, and read this : 

A Gem for Mrs. Winterose.’ 

“ Then, my dear, I saw that somebody who wanted to 
get shet of a baby, had put it off on to me. And, Lord for- 
give me, I struck mad as hop, and said I would n’t have 
the brat, and would send it to the almshouse. But, lor! 
there is a power in helplessness compared to which the 
power of a monarch is all moonshine ! And however angry 
I might a felt at that minute with the unnatural monsters 
who I thought had dropped the baby there, why, I could 
no more a sent it to the almshouse than I could a smoth- 
ered it in its basket,” said the soft-hearted old dame, wip- 
ing away the tears that rose to her eyes at the very idea 
of such a piece of cruelty. 

“ So you took the little creature in ? ” smiled Gem. 

“ What else could I do ? I was shivering with cold my- 
self. Could I leave it out there ? No. I took hold of the 
handle of the basket — which it was a large open clothes 


GEM. 


331 


basket with a handle at each ’end, and very useful I ha^e 
found it ever since to put the siled clothes in-:— and I began 
to drag it through the door and through the back room into 
this very room. But the motion waked the baby up, and 
it opened the darkest blue eyes I ever had seen in my life, 
and looked at me as calm and quiet as if it had known me 
all mj’- life, and then it opened its little rosy lips, and said: 

“ * Gamma ! ^ 

Yes, my dear Gem, that was what you called me from 
the first, ‘ Gamma.^ It w*ent straight to my heart. Gem ! 
And why ? Because I was sixty years old then, and my 
hair was as white as it is now, and I never had a baby in 
the world to call me grandma : all because Tabby and 
Libby did n’t marry as they ought to have done twenty 
years before that.” 

“ You ’re always hitting of us in the teeth about that, 
mother, as if it was our fault. As for me I would have 
married fast enough if William Simpson had n’t a proved 
false,” snivelled Miss Tabby. 

“ Bosh ! there’s as good fish in the sea as ever was got • 
out of it,” snapped the old lady. 

“ It was our fate,” said the superstitious Miss Libby. 

You made j’our own fate,” answered the inexorable old 
lady. 

“ So you adopted the poor little forsaken child,” put in 
Gem, to stop the altercation between the mother and 
daughters. 

“ Yes, Gem, of course. • But oh ! the day you were given 
to us was a day of jubilee ! While I was lifting you out of 
that basket, lame leg Joe came in to make the fire. When 
he saw me with a babe in my arms he let his wood fall, and 
lifted up his arms and opened his eyes in dumb amazement. 
And when I told him where I found it, he recovered his 
speech, and advised me to send it to the alms-house. 

^ Joe,’ I said, ‘ if ever you mention alms-houses and 


832 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


babies in the same breath to me again, you and I will have 
to part.’^ 

Yet poor old Joe spoke in your interests, grandma,” 
said Gem. 

“ I know he did, dear, or he thought be did; but my real 
interest was to keep my Gem, for she has been the bright- 
ness of my life, and not only of mine, but of Tabby’s and 
Libby’s, poor childish old maids, and of Mopsy’s and lame 
leg Joe’s.” 

It is because we all love each other so much, and it is 
such a happiness to love,” said Gem. 

We all loved you, my darling, from the very first. We 
could not help it. Ah ! you should have seen what a sun- 
beam you were in our dull house that day and all days after 
that. When I took you out of the basket and set you upon 
your feet, you tottered all about the room, eagerly examin- 
ing all that was new to you ; the chip-bottom chairs, the 
turkey-wing fans, the peacock’s feathers, even poor Joe’s 
crooked leg. And me and Joe watched you in your little 
crimson dress, as one watches some bright-plumed bird, 
hopping from twig to twig.” 

How I wish I could remember that day, grandma.” 

“You were too young; not more than two years old. 
But oh ! you should have seen the surprise and delight of 
Tabby and Libby, when, after they had made the beds up 
stairs, they came down to help me to get breakfast. They 
were as silly over you as ever you saw children over a new 
pet kitten. I thought you would have been pulled to pieces 
between them, which was another sign that they ought to 
have been married twenty years before.” 

“ Oh, mother ! ” began Miss Tabby. 

“Well, there! I won’t say anything more about that. 
But the way they talked to you. Gem ! ” 

“ ^ What ’s your name, little one ? ’ they asked. 

“ ^ Gem,’ you answered. 


GEM. 


833 


** ‘ Who your mother, baby ? ^ 

Gamma,’ you replied. You had only them two words, 
my darling — ^ Gem ’ and ‘ Gamma.’ ” 

Did you ever afterwards find out who I was, grand- 
ma ? ” inquired the girl. 

“ Maybe I did, and maybe I did n’t. Gem. Anyway 
there was no clue to your history there in that basket, Gem. 
There was heaps of baby clothes, nicely got up and marked 
*In-gem-is-ca,’ and there was a small bag of gold coins, 
amounting to just one hundred dollars. That was all. 
And now, did n’t you give me your word never to ask me 
any questions about yourself? ” 

** I know I did, grandma, and I will keep my word ; but 
oh, grandma, I can ’t help thinking about it and suspecting 
who I am.” 

Hush ! hush, Gera ! Put away such troublesome 
thoughts. I had rather see a little natural silliness than so 
much gravity in one so young as you are. Be a girl while 
girlhood lasts. The season is short enough. This is Hal- 
low Eve. When I was young, it used to be a gay festival, 
and not the funeral feast my mournful daughters would 
make it. When I was young, the lads and lasses, on a 
Hallow Eve night, used to try spells to find out their sweet- 
hearts and lovers. And if ghosts walked then, they were 
merry sprites who only came to tell the youths and maid- 
ens whom they were to love and marry. Come, now, I ’ll 
teach you a sure spell. Here are some chestnuts,” she 
said, rising and taking a little basket from the chimney 
shelf, and emptying it into Gem’s lap. 

What am I to do with these, grandma ? ” smiled the 

girl. 

‘‘ You are to take half a dozen large ones, scratch on 
each the first letter in the name of some young man you 
know. Then on another, ‘ Str.’ for stranger; on another 
* Wid.’ for widower; on the last one, a cross for old maid- 
enhood.” 


834 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Smilingly Gem complied with the directions, and marked 
the chestnuts, while the old lady, with spectacles on nose» 
watched her carefully. 

When they were all ready. Gem looked up, saying: 

Well, they are marked ! jS’ine of them altogether.” 

Now lay them in a row on the hot hearth, close to the 
coals, to roast.” 

“ It is done,” said Gem, after she had arranged them ac- 
cording to rule. 

“ Now, then, my dear, you must sit and watch them in 
perfect silence, until they are roasted, when they will begin 
to pop ; and the first one that pops will be your fate, 
whether it be one of the young men, or the widower, or the 
stranger, or whether it be the cross that stands for old 
maidenhood.” 

Smilingly Gem folded her hands, and composed herself 
to perfect silence and stillness. 

While she watched her roasting chestnuts, the old lady 
watched her. 

Each of these women, the ancient dame and the youthful 
maiden, was making herself silly to please the other. Mrs. 
Winterose, wishing to divert Gem from her troublesome 
thoughts, and Gem willing to gratify her “ grandma.” 

But the law of silence was not laid upon any one else hut 
the trier of the spell. And Miss Tabby and Miss Libby 
chattered together like a pair of sister magpies for some 
minutes, when suddenly Miss Tabby exclaimed : 

“ Look out. Gem ! Your chestnuts are beginning to 
crack ; they will shoot you presently, if you do n’t mind.” 

The warning came too late. A blazing chestnut was 
suddenly shot from the hearth like a small bomb-shell, and 
struck Gem uj)on the right hand, inflicting a slight burn. 

With a faint cry she sprang up and shook it off ; and she 
sat down startled and trembling, for she was very delicate 
and very sensitive to pain. 


GEM. 


835 


Never mind, never mind a little smarting! When I 
■was young I would have been willing to have been scorched 
worse than that, to have had such a powerful sign that some 
one loved me so fiercely as all that ! Goodness 1 how he 
loves you, to be sure 1 and how quickly he is coming to see 
you I Come, pick up your chestnut, child, and see what 
mark it bears. Come, now ! Is it Cromartie ? inquired 
the old lady with an arch smile. 

But the girl made no reply. She had picked up and 
blown out the blazing emblem that she had playfully made 
a messenger of fate, and she was gazing upon it. She re- 
mained pale and mute. 

Come, come ; did you name it for that auburn-haired 
youth ? persisted the old lady. 

“ I named it for — the exile — the lady who was borne 
from the flooded prison that stormy night ; I named it for 
— my mother,” answered the maiden in a low tone. 

Silence like a panic fell upon the little party. 

Mrs. Winterose w'as the first to break it. 

Gem ! how dare you do such dreadful things ? ” she 
demanded, speaking more harshly than she had ever before 
spoken to her spoiled child. 

It’s enough to break anybodj^’s heart to hear her say 
that,” whimpered Miss Tabbj’’, wiping her eyes. 

‘‘And, oh! what a sign and an omen! If there’s any 
truth in the spell, her mother — if so be she is her mother 
and is a living — her mother loves her better than any one 
in the world, and is a hurrying to see her now ! For I 
never knew that to fail,” said Miss Libby, clasping her 
hands and rolling up her eyes. 

Gem turned and gazed at the last speaker, while a super- 
stitious faith in the omen crept into her heart. 

“There is nothing at all in it! I was only trj’ing to 
amuse the poor child by the old love spell. I had no 
thought it would turn out this way,” said Mrs. Winterose, 
glancing uneasily at Gem. 


836 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


But Miss Tabby sighed, and Miss Libby shook her bead, 
and Gem continued to look very grave. 

“ Well, I declare ! I am out of all patience with Joe !” 
exclaimed the old lady, by way of changing the whole con- 
versation. “ It has been full forty minutes or more since I 
sent him after them cones ! And now I am going to call 
him.’’ 

And so saying she went and opened the back door. 

But she had no sooner done so, than she started with a 
cry of horror and fled back into the room. 

And well she might ! 

Behind her came three men, bearing in their arms the 
mutilated and bleeding body of a third man ! 

Following them limped lame-legged Joe. 

The affrighted women shrank back to the chimney corner, 
where they clung together in that dumb terror which is the 
deeper for its very silence. 

Now do n’t you be scared, ladies,” said Joe, soothingly. 
^‘Nobody an’t a going to do you no harm. It is only some 
man as has been murdered out there.” 

“ Murdered ! ” echoed Mrs. Winterose, in an awe- 
deepened tone. 

‘‘ Another Hallow Eve murder ! ” groaned Miss Tabby, 
wringing her hands. 

It is doom ! ” muttered Miss Libby solemnly. 

Gem vailed her eyes and said nothing. 

Lay him down here on the floor, men, and let us take 
a look of him to see if we know him,” said Joe, as he took 
a candle from the table. 

The bearers laid their burden gently down. 

Joe held the candle to the face of the murdered man. 

Old Mrs. Winterose cautiously approached to view it. 

Good angels in Heaven ! ” she exclaimed. 

“ Who is it, mother ? ” inquired her daughters, in terri- 
fied tones. 

Mb- Horace Blondelle ! ” she whispered. 


THE LAST FATAL HALLOW EVE. 337 


CHAPTEE XXXII. 

THE LAST FATAL HALLOW EVE. 

8o do the dark in soul expire, 

Or live like scorpion girt with fire ; 

So writhes the mind remorse hath riven— 

Unfit for earth, undoomed for heaven, 

Darkness above, despair beneath, 

Around it flame, within it death. — B yeoit. 

The awe-stricken women drew nearer to gaze upon the 
murdered man. 

“ Grandma, he is not dead ! He breathes,” exclaimed 
Gem, whose j^oung eyes had detected the slight, very slight 
motion of the man’s chest. 

The old woman knelt down beside the body, and began 
to examine it more closely. The shirt-bosom, vest, and coat 
front were soaked with blood, that still seemed to ooze from 
some hidden wound. 

She hastily unbuttoned his clothing, and found a small 
round blackened bullet hole over the region of the left 
lung. 

Turn him over on his left side, men,” she said, half 
rising from her knee. 

As they followed her directions, the blood flowed freely 
both from the wound and from the mouth of the man. 

“ Joe, mount Fleetfoot and gallop to Blackville as fast as 
you can go, and bring Dr. Hart, though I do n’t believe it 
will be a bit of use ; but still it is our duty. And, Tabby, 
and Libby, stop wringing of your hands and rolling of your 
eyes, and go up stairs and fetch down the cot bedstead to 
lay him on, for it stands to reason we can’t carry him up- 
stairs without hastening of his end,” said the old woman, 
as she busied herself with stanching the wound in the 
chest. 

All her orders were immediately obeyed. 

21 


338 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


The cot bed was made up in the corner of the room, and 
the wounded man was tenderly raised by the two laborers, 
and laid upon it. 

Now stand out of my way, all of you, and do n’t ask 
any questions, but be ready to fly, the minute I tell you to 
do anything,” said the dame, as she stood over the injured 
man and still pressed a little wad of lint over the bullet 
hole to stanch the blood. 

The other women and the men withdrew to the fireplace 
and waited. 

‘^He is very nasty and uncomfortable-looking, lying here 
in all these stained clothes, but I am afraid to undress him 
for fear of starting the wound to bleeding again, and that’s 
the sacred truth,” said Mrs. Winterose. 

No ; don’t move me,” spoke a very faint voice, which, 
as she afterwards said, sounded so much as if it might 
have come from the dead, that the old lady withdrew her 
hand and recoiled from it. 

Brandy ! brandy ! ” breathed the same voice. 

‘‘ Tabby, get the brandy bottle and pour some into a glass 
and bring it here. Quick ! ” she exclaimed. 

Miss Tabby, too much awed to whimper, brought the re- 
quired stimulant, which Mrs. Winterose immediately ad- 
ministered to the patient. 

The effect was good. He breathed more freely and 
looked around him. 

“ Now, be of good cheer ! I have sent a man on a fast 
horse for the doctor. He will be here in an hour,” said 
Mrs. Winterose encouragingly. 

The wounded man laughed faintly, as he replied : 

‘‘ Why, what can the doctor do for me ? I’m shot to 
death. I ’d like to see a magistrate, or a lawyer, though.” 

“Would you ? Then you shall. Hey ! one of you men, 
run out to the stable as fast as you can, and see if Joe’s 
gone. If he is n’t, tell him to fetch lawyer Closeby, as well 
as the doctor,” said Mrs. Winterose. 


THE LAST FATAL HALLOW EVE. 839 


Both of the laborers started on the errand. 

Mrs. Winterose turned to her patient. 

“ Wliat place is this ; and who are you ? ” he inquired. 

“ Why, do n’t you know ? This is Black Hall, and I am 
the caretaker.” 

“ Black Hall ! ” echoed the man, starting up and gazing 
around him with an excitement tliat caused his wound to 
break out bleeding again. Black Hall ! Is it here that 
I must die? Here, and — great Heaven ! — in the very room 
where the crime was committed ! In the very room haunt- 
ed hjr her memory ! ” 

And covering his face with his hands, he fell back upon 
the pillow. 

“ Tabby, more brandy ! ” hastilj^ exclaimed the old lady, 
as she nervously pressed a fresh piece of lint into the gush- 
ing wound. 

‘‘Yes, more brand}’’,” he faintly whispered; “keep me 
alive, if possible, till the lawyer comes.” 

Miss Tabby brought the stimulant, and Mrs. Winterose 
put it to his lips. 

“ But, oh, this room ! this fatal room ! this haunted 
room ! ” he murmured, with a shudder. 

“ Be quiet, good man ; this an’t the room wdiere the lady 
W’as murdered,” said Miss Tabby. 

“ And which is haunted by her ghost to this day,” put in 
Miss Libby, who had come up to the side of the bed. 

“Not — not the room where Kosa was murdered this day 
fifteen years ago ? ” murmured the man, gazing around him. 
“ Am I delirious, then ? It seems the very same room, only 
with different furniture.” 

“It is the correspondial room in this w’ing. T’other 
room is in t’other w’ing,” explained Miss Tabby. 

“ And yet, what difference ? vs'hat difference ? ” he mur- 
mured, restlessly. 

“ Mother,” whispered Miss Tabby, “ it seems to me as 
I ’ve seen this man before.” 


340 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Should n’t wonder,” replied the old lady in a low tone. 

Mr. Horace Blondelle has been living at the Dubarry 
Springs, within ten miles of us, for the last thirteen or four- 
teen years, and it would be queer if you had n’t seen him 
before.” 

Queer or not, I never did see Mr. Horace Blondelle, to 
know him as sich, in all my life before. And that an’t what 
I mean neither, mother. I have seen this man in a fright 
somewhere or other.” 

The man in a fright ? ” 

“ No; me in a fright when I saw him.” 

Hush ! do n’t whisper ! See, it disturbs him,” said the 
old lady. 

And in truth the wounded man had turned to listen to 
them, and was gazing uneasily from one to the other. 

When they became silent, he beckoned Miss Tabby to ap- 
proach. 

She bent over him. 

Now’, look at me well, old girl,” he wdiispered faintly, 

and see if you ca n’t recollect w'hen jmu met me last.” 

Ah ! ” screamed Miss Tabby, as if she had seen a ghost. 

It was on the night of the flood • And you reskeed of 
us!” 

“ That ’s so.” 

Well, then, my good gentleman, it ought to be a com- 
fort and a conserlation to you, a laying wounded there, to 
reflect as how you did reskee us from drownding that night,” 
said Miss Tabby, soothingly. 

“ I do n’t know as far as the rescuing of you is concerned, 
old girl, whether the act will be found set down on the debit 
or credit side of my account at the last day,” he said, with 
a gleam of his old humor sparkling up from beneath all his 
pain of mind and body. 

So this was the man,” said the old lady to herself, while 
Miss Libby and even Gem, looked at him with a new 
interest. 


THE LAST FATAL HALLOW EVE. 841 


Mr. Blondelle, can you tell me how you came to be 
wounded ? ” inquired the old lady. 

“No, not now. I must save all my strength for what I 
have to say to the lawyer. Give me more brandy. And 
then let me alone,” he said, speaking faintly and with diffi- 
culty. 

His request was complied with, and then the three old 
women, with Gem, withdrew to the fire. 

The two laboring men came in from their errand and 
joined them at the fire. 

“Did you catch Joe ? ” inquired the dame. 

“Yes, mum, just as he was riding off. AVe had to run 
after him and shout ; but w'e stopped him, and gave him 
your message.” 

“ All right ; and now tell me — for I had nT a chance to 
ask before — how came this gentleman to be wounded?” 

“ Do nT know, mum. We was on our way to a little 
Hallow Eve merry-making at a neighbor’s house in the 
Quarries, when we fell in long o’ Joe, who had been to the 
pine wmods to gather cones ; and we was all jogging along, 
Joe foremost, wdien he stumbled and fell over something, 
which proved to be this man, which, to tell the truth, w^e 
took to be dead at the time,” replied one of the men. 

“ And have jmu no idea wdio shot him ? ” 

“No more than you have yourself, mum. You see — ” 

A groan from the wounded man interrupted the conver- 
sation. 

“ Hush ! we disturb him. I ought to have known better 
than to talk,” whispered Mrs. AATnterose, and then she 
walked to the bedside and inquired ; 

“ AAJiat is the matter ? Can I do anything for you ? ” 

“No ; let me alone, and be quiet,” was the feeble reply. 

The old woman went back to the fireplace, and sat down 
in silence. The two laboring men, uninvited, seated them- 
selves at a short distance. All thoughts of going to a 
merry-making were given up for that night. 


842 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


And a weary death-watcli commenced, and continued in 
awful silence and stillness until it was interrupted by the 
sound of horses’ feet in front of the house, and soon after 
by a loud knocking. 

Miss Tabby sprang up to open the door and admit the 
doctor and the lawyer. 

“ This is a terrible thing, Mrs. Winterose,” said Dr. 
Hart, as he shook hands with the old lady, and bowed to 
the other members of the family. 

“Terrible indeed, sir,” replied Mrs. Winterose, as she 
led the way to the bedside. 

“ I am sorry to see you wounded, Mr. Blondelle ; but we 
shall bring you round all right,” said Dr. Hart, as he took 
the hand of the dying man. 

“ Doctor, jmu know, or you will soon know, that you can- 
not do any such thing. So let us have no flattery. But if 
you can give me anything to keep me alive until 1 shall 
have finished a statement, that it may take me an hour to 
make, you will do the onlj' thing you possibly can do for me,” 
said Mr. Blondelle, speaking faintly, with difficulty, and 
with frequent pauses. 

“ Let me examine your injuries,” said the doctor, gently. 

“ Do so, if you must and will. But pray occupy’- as little 
of my precious time as possible,” pleaded the dying man. 

The doctor proceeded to make his examination. 

When he had finished it, he made not a single comment. 

“I told you so,” said Mr. Blondelle, interpreting his 
silence. “And now give me something to keep me going 
until I finish my work, and then send all these women out 
of the room, so as to leave us alone with the lawyer j but 
let them supply him with writing materials first.” 

“ I will do as you direct ; but meanwhile, shall I not send 
for your wife ?” gently inquired the doctor. 

“No; what would be the use? It will be all over with 
me before she can possibly get here,” answered Mr. Blon- 
delle. 


THE LAST FATAL HALLOW EVE. S43 


The doctor did not urge the point ; he probably agreed 
with his patient. 

When he had administered a stimulant, he whispered to 
Mrs. Winterose to place writing materials on the little 
stand beside the cot, and then to take her daughters and 
Gem up stairs. 

When the women had left the room, the doctor hade the 
two laboring men retire with Joe to the kitchen, where ho 
himself would have followed them, seeing that the rest of 
the house was closed up and fireless ; but at a sign from the 
dying man, he stayed, and took a seat by the bedside. 

The lawyer sat between the bed’s head and the little 
stand upon which pens, ink, and paper had been placed. 

It is a will,” said Mr. Closeby, as he rolled out a sheet 
of parchment he had taken the precaution to bring. 

The dying man laughed low as he replied : 

“ hTo, it is a confession. I can make it now, when it will 
redeem her life without ruining mine.” 

The lawyer and the doctor exchanged glances, but made 
no comment. 

What Mr. Horace Blondelle’s confession would be they 
had already surmised. What it really was will be seen 
presently. 

The work occupied something more than an hour, for the 
narrator was very weak from loss of blood, and spoke 
slowly, faintly, and with frequent pauses, while the lawyer, 
at leisure, took down his words, and the doctor from time 
to time consulted his pulse and administered stimulants. 

Meanwhile the three old women, with Gem, remained up 
stairs, gathered around the small fire in their bed-room. 
Awe hushed their usually garrulous tones, or moved them 
to speak only in whispers. Hever seemed an hour so long. 
At length it was past, and more than past, when the door 
at the foot of the stairs was opened, and the doctor’s voice 
was heard calling upon them to come down. 


344 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Is it all over ? ” whisperingly inquired Mrs. "VYin- 
terose. 

The work is over.” 

But the man, I mean.” 

It is not all over with him yet. He still lives, though 
sinking fast.” 

Do n’t you think he ought to have a clergyman ? ” 

“ He would be dead before a clergyman could be brought 
here.” 

This rapid, low-toned conversation took place at the foot 
of the stairs, out of hearing of the dying man, whose 
senses were fast failing. 

Mrs. Winterose then came down into the room and took 
her seat by the bed, and from time to time bathed the suf- 
ferer’s brow with her own preparation of aromatic vinegar, 
or moistened his lips with brandy and water. 

Tabby, Libby, and Gem sat around the fire. The doc- 
tor and the lawyer stood conferring in a low tone at a dis- 
tant window. 

Thus the death-watch w^as kept in the silence of awe, 
until Miss Tabby, unable to resist her desire to do some- 
thing for the sufferer, crept up to the side of the cot oppo- 
site to which her mother sat, and “shook his sands,” by 
asking him in a low tone : 

“ Is there no one in the world you would like to see, or 
to send a message to ? ” 

“ No — no one — but Sybil Berners — and I have written 
a message to — her ; but — to see her — is impossible,” gasp- 
ed the man at intervals. 

“ Tabby, go sit down and keep quiet. You only worry 
the poor soul ! ” said Mrs. Winterose. 

Miss Tabby complied, and the silent death-watch was re- 
sumed, and continued unbroken except by the howling of 
the wind, the beating of the rain, and the rattling of the 
leafless trees, until at length — inexplicable sound ! — wheels 


RETURN OF THE EXILE. 


845 


were heard, grating over the rough, neglected avenue, and 
approaching the house. 

Who could it be, coming at that late hour of a stormy- 
night, to a house to which, even in daylight and good 
weather, scarcely a visitor ever came ? 

The sound of the wheels ceased before the door, and was 
immediately followed by a knock. 

“ Burglars never come in wheeled carriages,” said Miss 
Tabby to herself, as she recovered her courage, and went 
and opened the door. 

She recoiled with a loud cry. 

Every one started up, and hurried forward to see what 
could now be the matter. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

RETURN OF THE EXILE. 


Long years had seen her roaming 
A sad and weary way. 

Like traveller tired at gloaming. 

Of a sultry summer-day. 

But now a home doth greet her, 

Though worn its portals be, 

And re^y kindness meet her, 

And peace that will not flee. — P eecival. 


Sybil Berners stood before them ! Sybil Berners, in 
magnificent beauty ! Sybil Berners, developed into a 
woman of majestic dignity and angelic grace ! 

Yet they all knew her in an instant. 

The scene that followed is indescribable, unimaginable. 

Eorgotten was the dying man ! Unseen was Lyon Ber- 
ners, whose fine form filled up the door-way. 

They crowded around Aer, they caressed her, they cried 
over her, they exclaimed about her, they asked her a score 


846 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


of questions, and without waiting for a single answer asked 
her a hundred others. 

“ God bless my dear old home, and all the people in it ! 
were the first words that Sybil spoke after she was permit- 
ted to catch her breath. 

“ And you, my darling, you ! God bless you in coming 
home ! ” fervently exclaimed the old woman. 

“ Now, where is my child, Mrs. Winterose ? Where is 
my Gem ? ” the lady inquired, looking eagerly around the 
room. 

“ Gem-, come here,” said the dame. 

And the beautiful young girl who had been timidly lin- 
gering in the background, yet with some suspicion of the 
lady’s identity too, came modestly forward, and was silently 
folded in the arms of her mother. 

A moment they clung thus ; and then Sybil lifted the 
young head from her bosom, and holding it between her 
hands gazed tenderly down in the sweet face. 

“ My daughter ! my little Gem ! ” she murmured. “ It 
is but a few months since I knew that I possessed you.” 

^^But I always knew that you were my mother. I 
always knew it, though no one ever told me!” sobbed 
Gem. 

^‘And did you think that I had deserted you all this 
time, my daughter, my daughter ? ” inquired the lady, lin- 
gering on the last word, and tenderly gazing into her dark 
eyes. 

“ I thought you were compelled to do it, mother I ” 

“What! to leave you here alone, uncared for and un- 
schooled, all these long years ? No, my daughter ; no, no, 
no. I did not know that I was blessed with a daughter; 
I did not know that you lived, until within a few months 
past. Mistaken love for me, inordinate care for me, in- 
duced all those who were nearest to me to conceal your ex- 
istence from me, lest, if I should know it, I should com- 


RETURN OF THE EXILE. 847 

promise my safety, my liberty and life, Gem, by seeking to 
see you ! ” 

Oh, mother ! ” 

‘‘And they were so far right, my darling, that as soon as^ 
at last, your father informed me of your existence, and of 
a necessity to bring you over to us for education, I became 
so impatient that I could not wait for you to be brought to 
me. I felt that I must fetch you, at all risks, for the sake 
of seeing you some few weeks earlier than I could by wait- 
ing for you over there ! So here I am, my daughter ! ” 

“ But oh ! dearest, dearest mother, at what a hazard ! 
sighed Gem. 

“ I do not believe it, my darling. I do not believe, after 
all these years, that any one will seek to molest me for the 
few da^^s that I shall remain here, even if my presence 
should be suspected, which will be very improbable, as I 
have taken and shall take every precaution for secrecy. I 
have travelled only by night. Gem, and this is the first time 
I have raised my thick vail.'^ 

“But oh, mother!” she said, giving an alarmed look 
around, for she suddenly remembered that there were the 
doctor and the lawyer in the house ; but she did not see 
them. They had discreetly withdrawn into the back room. 

“And now, dear Gem, here is your father, who is waiting 
to embrace you,” said Sybil. 

And Lyon Berners, who had forborne to interrupt the 
meeting between the mother and daughter, and who was 
standing apart, talking in low, eager tones with Mrs. Win- 
terose, now came forward and folded his daughter to his 
heart, and laid his hand upon her head and blessed her. 

“But who is that?” exclaimed Sybil, in a startled tone, 
as she turned her eyes upon a ghastly and blood-stained 
form, sitting bolt upright on the cot bedstead, and staring 
in a death panic at her. 

At her exclamation all eyes were turned in the direction 


348 


TKIED FOR HER LIFE. 


that hers had taken, and Mr. Berners looked inquiringly 
towards Mrs. Winterose who hastened to reply : 

“ Oh, I forgot. In my joy at her arrival, I forgot all 
about the poor dying man ! Sir, he is Mr. Blondelle, who 
owns the great Dubarry Springs up yonder. He was set 
upon and murdered by — the Lord only knows whom — but 
he was found by Joe lying in the pine woods, and with the 
help of two laborers he was brought here. We sent for the 
doctor, but he could do nothing for him. He must die, and 
he knows it,” she added, in a whisper. 

In the mean time, Sybil, staring at the ghastly face which 
was staring back at her through its glazing eyes, recognised 
an old acquaintance. 

It is Satan ! ” she gasped. “ It is Captain ‘ Inconnu ! ^ ” 

And Miss Tabby moved by compassion, went up to him 
and whispered : 

“ Listen, now. You said there was only one person in 
the world as you wanted to see, and that it was impossible 
to see her. But here she is. Do you understand me ? 
Here she is.” 

“Who? Who?” panted the dying man, listening to 
Miss Tabby, but still staring at Sybil in the same dazed 
manner. 

“ Sybil Berners ! Sybil Berners is here ! ” 

“ Is — that — her ? ” 

“ Yes, yes ; do n’t you see it is ? ” 

“I thought — I thought — it was her phantom!” he 
gasped. 

Sybil gravely approached the bed, and put her hand on 
the cold hand of the corpse-like man, and gently inquired : 

“ Mr. Blondelle, or Captain ^ Inconnu,’ did you w^ant to 
see me ? ” 

“The expiring flame of life flashed up, once more — 
flashed up brilliantly. His whole face brightened and 
beamed. 


RETURN OF THE EXILE. 


349 


It is you ! Oh, thank Heaven ! Yes, I did want to 
see you. But — It is growing very dark. Y/here have 
you gone ? ” he inquired, blindly feeling about. 

I am beside you. Here, take my hand, that you may 
feel that I am here,” said Sybil, compassionately. 

“ Yes. Thanks. Lady, I did try very hard to save you 
from the consequences of my crime.” 

“ Wretched man ! ” exclaimed Sybil impulsively snatch- 
ing away her hand in abhorrence, ‘^You murdered that 
unhappy woman, of whose death I was falsely accused.” . 

No, lady ; no ! Give me your hand again. Mine is 
not stained with her blood. Thank you,” he said, as Sybil 
laid her hand in his. 

A wild, bad man I was and am, but no murderer ; and 
yet it is no less true that it was through my fault that the 
poor woman was done to death, and you driven to insanity. 
That was the reason why I tried to save you by every other 
means but the only sure one — confession. But now, when 
a confession will redeem your life without ruining mine- 
mine — which is over — I have made it, under oath, signed 
it, and placed it in the hands of your solicitor, lawyer 
Closeby.” 

He ceased to speak, and he breathed very hard. 

She continued to hold his hand, which grew colder and 
colder in her clasp. 

“ Lie down,” she whispered gently. You are too weak 
to sit up. Lie down.” 

No, not yet,” he panted hard. Tell me : do you 
forgive me ? ” 

As I hope to be forgiven, I forgive you with all my 
heart and soul ; and I pray to the Lord to pardon you, for 
the Saviour’s sake,” said Sybil, earnestl3^ 

Amen and amen ! ” faintly aspirated the expiring man. 
And his frozen hand slipped from Sybil’s clasp, and he fell 
back upon his pillow — dead. 


350 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


Sybil’s sudden cry brought the three old women to the 
bedside. 

“ It is all over, my dear child. The poor man has gone 
to his account. Come away,” said the experienced dame^ 
wlien slie had looked at the corpse. 

“ I am very glad as 3’ou happened to come in time, and 
as 3'ou was good to him and forgave him, whether he 
deserved it or not,” wept the tender-hearted Miss Tabby. 

“ Every one who is penitent enough to ask for forgive- 
ness deserves to have it, Miss Tabby,” said Sybil, solemnly. 

“ But, oh ! the signs and omens as ushered in this awful 
ewent ! ” whispered Miss Libby. 

“Hush! hush !” said the dame. ‘‘No more vain talk. 
We are in the presence of death. Mr. Lyon, m}’^ dear sir, 
take your wife and daughter into the parlor. It is not 
damp, or close. It was aired 5’^esterda3^ The whole house 
has been opened and aired faithful, once a month, ever since 
you have been away. And Joe went and made a fire in 
the parlor about a quarter of an hour ago. Take them in 
there, Mr. Lyon, and leave me and my daughters to do our 
last duties to this dead man,” she added, turning to Mr. 
Berners. 

He followed her advice, and took his wife and daughter 
from the room of death. \ 

As they entered the old familiar parlor, now well aired 
and warmed and lighted, Joe, who was still busy improving 
the fire, and Mopsy, who was dusting the furniture, came 
forward in a hurry to greet their beloved mistress. They 
loudly welcomed her, wept over her, blessed her, kissed her 
hands, and would not let her go until the door opened, and 
Dr. Hart and lawyer Closeby entered the room. 

Go now,” said Sybil gently to her faithful servants. 

Mopsy, see to having my bed-room got ready ; and, Joe, 
carry up a plenty of wood.” 

And of course she gave them these directions for the 


RETURN OF THE EXILE. 85^1 

sake of giving them something to do for herself, which she 
knew would please them. 

Delighted to obey their beloved mistress, they left the 
room. 

Dr. Hart and lawyer Closehy came up to Sybil. 

Let us welcome you home, Mrs. Berners ! And 3’ou, 
sir! Words would fail to express our happiness in seeing 
you. You arrive in an auspicious hour too. If you had 
not come I should have dispatched a special messenger to 
Europe after you by the next steamer,*’ said lawj^er Close- 
by, grasping a hand each of Sybil and Lyon. 

“Welcome, my child! Welcome, Sybil! Welcome 
home ! I thank Heaven that I have lived to see this day. 
Well may I exclaim with one of old, ‘Now, Lord, let 
thy servant depart in peace, for I have seen the desire of 
my eyes ! ’ ” fervently exclaimed old Dr. Hart, as he clasped 
and shook Sybil’s hands, while the tears of joy filled his 
eyes. 

But Sybil threw her arms around his neck and kissed 
him, for she could not speak. 

Then he shook hands with Mr. Berners, and warmly 
welcomed him home. 

When the congratulations were all over, and the friends 
were seated around the fire, Mr. Closeby drew a parchment 
packet from his pocket, and said : 

“ I told you, Sir, and Madam, that you had arrived in 
time to prevent my sending far jmu. I hold the cause of 
my words in my hand.” 

“ The confession of Horace Blondelle ? ” said Mr. Ber- 
ners, while Sybil listened eagerl3^ 

“ Yes ; the confession of Horace Blondelle, alias Captain 
Inconnu, alias Satan. This confession must first be read to 
you, then sent up to the Governor of Virginia, and finally 
published to the whole world j for it fully vindicates your 
honor, Mrs. Berners.” 


352 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


At last ! thank Heaven ! ’’ exclaimed Sybil, while her 
husband took one of her hands and pressed it, and her 
daughter took the other one and kissed it. 

“ The writing down of this confession from the lips of the 
dying man occupied an hour and a quarter ; the reading of 
it will take perhaps fifteen minutes. Can you hear it now, 
or are you too much fatigued with your journey, and would 
you prefer to put off the reading until to-morrow morning ? 
inquired the lawyer, looking from Sybil to Lyon. 

“ Put off the reading of that document until to-morrow ? 
By no means ! Bead it at once, if you please,’’ replied Mr. 
Berners, with a glance at his wife, which she at once under- 
stood and acted upon by hastening to say : 

Oh, yes ! yes ! read it at once ! I could not sleep now 
without first hearing it.” 

“Very well, then,” said the lawyer, as he unfolded the 
paper and prepared to peruse it. 

The confession of Horace Blondelle need not he given in 
full here. A sjmopsis of it will serve our purpose. 

As the son of a wicked old nobleman and a worthless 
young ballet dancer, he had been brought up in the very- 
worst school of morality. 

His mother closed her career in a hospital. His father 
died at an advanced age, leaving him a large legacy. 

His beauty, his wit, and his money enabled him to insin- 
uate himself into the rather lax society of fashionable 
watering places and other public resorts. 

He had married three times. First he married a certain 
Lady Biordon, the wealthy widow of an Irish knight, and 
the mother of Baphael, who became his step-son. He soon 
squandered this lady’s fortune, and broke her heart. 

After her death he joined himself to a band of smugglers 
trading between the French and English coast, and consort- 
ed with them until he had made money for a fashionable 
campaign among the watering places. He went to Scar- 


RETURN OF THE EXILE. 353 

borough, where he met and married the fair young Scotch 
widow Kosa Douglass. 

He lived with her until he had spent all her money, and 
swindled her infant out of his inheritance, and then he had 
robbed her of her jewels and deserted her. 

About the same time a smuggling craft, unsuspected as 
such by the authorities, had entered the port of Norfolk, 
sailing under the British flag. 

Mr. Horace Blondelle, going to take passage in her, re- 
cognized the captain and the crew as his own old confeder- 
ates. 

Ashe was quite ready for new adventures, he joined them 
then and there. The ship sailed the next day. And the 
next week it was wrecked on the coast of Virginia. 

The lives of the captain and crew’, and also the money 
and jewels, the silks and spirits they had on board, were all 
saved. They reached the land in safety. 

There a new scheme was formed in the busy brain of Mr. 
Blondelle. Accident had revealed to him the fact that the 
little Gentiliska, the orphan daughter of a dead comrade, 
was the heiress of a great Virginian manor, long unclaimed. 
He made up his mind to go and look up the estate, marry 
the heiress, and claim her rights. 

Without revealing his whole plan to his companions, he 
persuaded them to accompany him to the neighborhood. 

There is a freemasonry among thieves that enables them 
to recognize each other even at a first meeting. 

Blondelle and his band no sooner reached the neighbor- 
hood of the Black Mountain, than they strengthened their 
forces by the addition of all the local outlaws who were at 
large. 

They made their head-quarters first at the old deserted 
“ Haunted Chapel.” They penetrated into the vault be- 
neath it, and there discovered the clue to the labyrinth of 

S3 ■ 


854 


TEI^li) FOR HER LIFE. 


caverns under the mountain that henceforth became their 
stronghold. 

Thence they sallied out at night upon their predatory 
errands. 

On the night of the mask hall, two members of the band 
determined to attend it in disguise, for the double purpose 
of espionage and robbery. Mr. Blondelle had learned to 
his chagrin that his deserted wife was in the neighborhood, 
at Black Hall, where her presence of course would defeat 
his plan of marrying the little Dubarry heiress. 

He arrived as an ordinary traveller at the Blackville Inn, 
where he assumed the ghastly and fantastic character of 
‘‘ Death,” and went to the ball. 

His companion, known in the band as ‘‘Belial,” took the 
character of Satan, and met him there. 

With great dexterity, they had lightened several ladies 
and gentlemen of valuable jewels before supper was 
announced. And then they went and concealed themselves 
in the heavy folds of the bed-curtains in Mrs. Blondelle’s 
room, intending to rob the house that night. 

An accident revealed the presence of Belial to Mrs. 
Blondelle, who, on catching sight of him, screamed loudly 
for help. The robber was at her throat in an instant ; in 
another instant his dagger was buried in her bosom ; and 
then, as Sybil’s steps were heard hurrying to the help of 
her guest, he jumped out of the low window, followed 
instantly by Blondelle. They clapped the shutter to, and 
fled. 

Subsequently, when Mr. Blondelle discovered that the 
beautiful Sybil Berners was accused of the murder, he 
sought to save her in every manner but the only sure one 
— confession. He could not confess, for two reasons. He 
was bound by the mutual compact of the band, never to 
betra}'- a comrade ; and also he was resolved now that he 
was free, to marry the Dubarry heiress and claim th§i 


RETURN OF THE EXILE. 


355 


manor, which he could never do, if once he were known as 
an outlaw. 

The death of Belial and the disbanding of the robbers 
released him from his compact; but still self-preservation 
kept him silent until the hour of his death, when he made 
this confession as an act of tardy justice to Sj^bil Berners. 
His violent death had been the direct result of his lawless 
life. A brutal ex-confederate in crime had long successfully 
black-mailed him, and at length waylaid, robbed, and mur- 
dered him. The criminal subsequently fled the neighbor- 
hood, but no doubt somewhere, sooner or later, met his 
deserts. 

The confession was ended. At the same time Miss 
Tabb}’’ knocked at the door and announced supper. 

And after this refreshment the friends separated, and 
retired to rest. 

There is but little more to tell. 

The next day news of the tragedy was taken to the 
Dubarry Springs. 

Kaphael Eiordon and his step-mother, Mrs. Blondelle, 
came over to view the corpse and see to its removal. 

Gentiliska, now a very handsome matron, gazed at the 
dead body with a strangely mingled expression of pity, 
dislike, sorrow, and relief. She had not been happy with 
the outlaw, whom, in her ignorance and friendlessness, she 
had been induced to marry ; and she was not now unhappy 
in his death. 

Raphael, now a grave and handsome man, met Mrs. Ber- 
ners with a sad composure. He worshipped her as con- 
stantly and as purely as ever. He had known no second 
faith. 

Mr. Blondelle was buried at Dubarry. 

His confession was duly laid before the Governor of 
Virginia, wdio, in granting Sybil a pardon for the crime she 
had never committed, also wrote her a vindicatory letter, in 


856 


TRIED FOR HER LIFE. 


which he expressed his respect for her many virtues, and 
his sorrow that the blundering of the law should have 
caused her so much of suffering. 

The criminal’s confession and the Governor’s letter were 
both published through the length and breadth of the land. 
And Sybil Berners became as much loved and lionized as 
ever she had been hated and persecuted. 

In the spring other exiles returned to the neighborhood : 
Captain Pendleton and his wife, once Miss Minnie Sheri- 
dan ; and Mr. Sheridan, with his wife, once Miss Beatrix 
Pendleton. 

Both these couples had long been married, and had been 
blessed with large families of sons and daughters. 

The widow Blondelle sold out her interest in the Dubarry 
White Sulphur Springs, and with her step-son Eaphael 
Biordon, returned to England. Under another name, those 
springs are now among the most popular in America. 

Mr. and Mrs. Berners have but one child — Gem ! But 
she is the darling of their hearts and eyes ; and she is 
betrothed to Cromartie Douglass, whom they love as a son. 


THE END. 


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The Soldiers’ Orphans, 1 50 

Silent Struggles, I 50 


The above are each in paper cover. 


The Heiress, $1 50 

The Wife’s Secret, 1 50 

The Rejected Wife, 1 50 

Fashion and Famine, 1 50 

The Old Homestead, 1 50 

The Gobi Brick, 1 50 

Mary Derwent, 1 50 


or in cloth, price $1.75 each. 


MRS. EMMA D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH’S WORKS. 


The Christmas Guest, $l 50 

The Maiden Widow, I 50 

The Family Doom, 1 50 

The Changed Brides, 1 50 

The Brides' Fate, 1 50 

Fair Play, 1 50 

How He Won Her 1 50 

Fallen Pride, I 50 

The Prince of Darkness, 1 50 

The Widow’s Son, 1 50 

The Bride of Llewellyn, 1 50 

The Fortune Seeker, 1 50 

Allworth Abbey, 1 50 

The Bridal Eve 1 50 

The Fatal Marriage, 1 50 

Haunted Homestead 1 50 


The above .are each in paper 


The Lost Heiress, $1 50 

Lady of the Isle, 1 50 

Vivia; or the Secret of Power, 1 60 

Love’s Labor Won, ] 50 

Deserted Wife, 1 50 

The Gipsy’s Prophecy, 1 50 

The Mother-in-Law, 1 60 

The Missing Bride, 1 50 

The Two Sisters, 1 50 

The Three Beauties, 1 50 

Wife’s Victory, 1 50 

Retribution, 1 50 

India; Pearl of Pearl River,.. 1 50 

Curse of Clifton, 1 50 

Discarded Daughter, 1 50 


, or in cloth, price $1.75 each. 


MBS. CAEOLINE lEE HENTZ'S WORKS. 


the Belle Creole,. 

Robert Graham. The 


Sequel 


.$1 

50 

Marcus Warland, 

...$l 50 



Rena.; or, the Snow Bird,.... 

... 1 

50 

1 

50 

The Lost Daughter, 

... 1 

50 

[ 


Love after Marriage 

... 1 

50 

. 1 

50 

Eoline; or. Magnolia Vale,., 

... 1 

.*10 

1 

50 

The Banished Son, 

... 1 

50 

. 1 

50 

Helen and .Arthur 

... 1 

50 


The above are each in paper cover, nr n Green and Gold edition is issued 
In Morocco Cloth, at $1.75 each; or $21.00 a set, each set in a neat box. 


FREDRIKA BREMER’S WORKS. 

The Neighbors, $1 50 i Fathpr and Daughter, $1 50 

The Home, 1 50 | The Four Sisters 1 50 

The above are each in paper cover, or in cloth, price $1.75 each. 

Life in the Old World. In two volumes, cloth, price, $3.50 


Books sent, postage paid, on receipt of the Retail Price, by 
T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa. (1) 


2 T. B. PETERSON’ & BROTHERS’ PUBLICATIONS. 


BEST COOK BOOKS PUBLISHED. 

The Young "Wife’s Cook Book, Cloth, $1 75 

Miss Leslie’s New Cookery Book, Clotl), 1 75 

Mrs. Hale’s New Cook Book, Cloth, 1 75 

Mrs. Goodfellow’s Cookery as it Should Be, Cloth, 1 75 

Petersons’ New Cook Book, Cloth, 1 75 

WiJdilield’s New Cook Book, Cloth, 1 75 

The National Cook Book. By a Practical Housewife, Cloth, 1 75 

Miss Leslie’s New Receipts for Cooking, Cloth, 1 75 

Mrs. Hale’s Receipts for the Million, Cloth, 1 75 

The Family Save-All. By author of ‘‘National Cook Book,”. Cloth, I 75 

Francatelli’s Celebrated French, Italian, German, and English 
Cook Book. The Modern Cook. With Sixty-two illustrations. 
Complete in six hundred large octavo pages, Cloth, 5 00 


WORKS BY THE VERY BEST AUTHORS. 

The following hooks are each issued in one large duodecimo volume, in 
paper cover, at $1.50 each, or each one is bound i}i cloth, at $1.75 each. 

Tlie Initials. A Love Story. By Baroness Tautpboeus, ". $1 60 

Why Did He Marry Her? By Miss Eliza A. Dupuy,.. 1 50 

The Maedermots of Ballycloran. By Anthony Trollojie, 1 60 

Lost Sir Massingberd. By the author of “ Carlj’on’s Year,” 1 60 

Tlie Planter’s Daughter. By Miss Eliza A. Dujuiy, 1 60 

Dream Numbers. By T. Adolphus Trollope, author of ‘‘ Gemma,”... 1 60 
Leonora Casaloni ; or, the Marriage Secret. Bj' T. A. Trollope,.,.... 1 60 

The Forsaken Daughter. A Companion to “Linda,” 1 50 

Love and Liberty. A Revolutionary Story. By Alexander Dumas, 1 60 

Family Pride. By author of “Pique,” “ Family Secrets,” etc 1 60 

Self-Sacrifice. By author of “ Margaret Maitland,” etc 1 60 

The Woman in Black. A Companion to the “Woman in White,” ... 1 60 

A ^V’oman’s Thoughts about Women. By Miss Muloch, 1 60 

Flirtations in Fashionable Life. By Catharine Sinclair, 1 60 

Rose Douglas. A Coinj)anion to “ Family Pride,” and “ Sell Sacrifice,” 1 60 

False Pride; or. Two Ways to Matrimony. A Charming Book, 1 50 

Family Secrets. A Companion to “Family Pride,” and ‘’Pique,”... 1 60 

Tlio Morrisons. By Mrs. Margaret Hosiner, 1 60 

Beppo; The Conscript. By T. A. Trollope, author of “ Gemma,”.... 1 60 
Gemma. An Italian Story. By T. A. Trollope, author of “ Beppo,” 1 50 

Marietta. By T. A. Trollope, author of “Gemma,’’ 1 60 

My Son’s Wife. By author of “ Caste,” “Mr. Arle,” etc 1 60 

The Rich Husband. By author of “ George Gcith,” 1 50 

Harem Life in Egypt and Constantinople. By Emmeline Lott, 1 50 

The Rector’s W’^ife; or, the Valley of a Hundred Fires, 1 50 

Woodhnrn Grange. A Novel. By William Howltt, 1 60 

Country Quarters. By the Countess of Blessington 1 50 

Out of the Depths. The Story of a “Woman’s Life,” 1 60 

The Coquette: or, tVie Life and Letters of Eliza Wharton, 1 50 

The Pri<le of Life. A Story of the Heart. By Lady Jane Scott 1 60 

The Lost Beauty. By a Noted Lady of the Spanish Court, 1 60 

Saratoga. An Indian Tale of Frontier Life. A true Story of 1787,.. 1 50 

Married at Last. A Love Story. By Annie Thoma®, 1 50 

The Quaker Soldier. A Revolutionary Romance. Bv Judge Jones,.... 1 60 
The Man of the World. An Autobiography. By William North.... 1 50 
The Queen's F^rvorite ; or. The Price of a Crown. A Lovp>^tory.... 1 50 
Self Love: or.VThe Afternoon of Single and Married T.tCj. ] 50 

The above books are each in paper cover, or in cloth, price $1.75 each. 


1^^ Books sent, postage paid, on Receipt of the Retail Price, by 
T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa. 


T. B. PETEBSON & BBOTHEES’ PUBLICATIONS. 3 


WOEKS BY THE VEEY BEST AUTHOES. 

The following hooks are each issued in one large duodecimo volume, it% 
paper cover, at $1.50 each, or each one is hound in cloth, at $1.75 each. 

The Dead Secret. By Wilkie Collins, author “ The Crossed Path,'’...$l 50 
Memoirs of Vidocq, the French Detective. Ills Life and Adventures, 1 50 

" The Crossed Path ; or Basil. By Wilkie Collins, 1 50 

Indiana. A Love Story. By George Sand, author of “ Consuelo,” 1 50 
The Belle of Washington. With her Portrait. By Mrs. N. P. Lasselle, 1 50 
€ora Belmont ; or. The Sincere Lover. A True Story of the Heart,. 1 5f 
The Lover's Trials; or Days before 1776. By Mrs. Mary A. Denison, 1 511 
High Life in Washington. A Life Picture. By Mrs. N. P. Lasselle, 1 50 

The Beautiful AVidow; or, Lodore. By Mrs. Percy B. Shelley, ] 50 

Love and Money. By J. B. Jones, author of the “ llival Belles,”... 1 50 
The Matchmaker. A Story of High Life. By Beatrice Beynolds,.. 1 50 
The Brother’s Secret ; or, the Count Do Mara. By William Godwin, 1 50 
The Lost Love. By Mrs. Oliphant, author of ‘^Margaret Maitland,” 1 50 
The Roman Traitor. By Henry AVilliam Herbert. A Roman Story, 1 50 

The Bohemians of London. By Edward M. AViiitty, 1 50 

The Rival Belles; or. Life in AVashington. By J. B. Jones, 1 58 

The Devobed Bride. A Story of the Heart. By St. George Tucker, J 50 
Love and Duty. By Mrs. Hubback, author of “ May and December,’’ 1 50 
AVild Sports and Adventures in Africa. By Major AV^. C. Harris, 1 50 
Courtship and Matrimony. By Robert Morris. AVith a Portrait,... 1 50 

The Jealous Husband. By Annette Marie Maillard, 1 50 

The Refugee. By Herman Melville, author of ‘‘ Omoo,” “ Typee,” 1 50 

The Life, Writings, Lectures, and Marriages of Fanny Fern, 1 50 

The Life and Lectures of Lola Montez, with her portrait, on steel,... 1 50 

AVild Southern Scenes. By author of AVild AVestern Scenes,” 1 50 

Currer Lyle ; or, the Autobiography of an Actress. By LouiseHeeder. 1 50 
Coal, Coal Oil, and all other Minerals in the Earth. By Eli Bowen, 1 50 

The Cabin and Parlor. By J. Thornton Randolph. Illustrated, 1 50 

Jealousy. By George Sand, author of Consuelo,” ‘^Indiana,” etc. 1 50 

The Little Beauty. A Love Story. By Mrs. Grey, 1 50 

Secession, Coercion, and Civil AVar. By J. B. Jones, 1 50 

The Count of Monte Cristo. By Alexander Dumas. Illustrated,... 1 50 

Camille; or, the Fate of a Coquette. By Alexander Dumas, 1 50 

Six Nights with the AVashingtonians. By T. S. Arthur, 1 50 

Lizzie Glenn ; or, the Trials of a Seamstress. By T. S. Arthur, 1 50 

Lady Maud ; or, the AVonder of Kingswood Chase. By Pierce Egan, 1 50 

AVilfred Montressor ; or. High Life in New York. Illustrated, 1 50 

The Old Stone Mansion, By C. J. Peterson, author “ Kate Aylesford,” 1 50 
Kate Aylesford. By Chas. J. Peterson, author Old Stone Mansion,”. 1 50 

Lorrimer Littlegood, by author Hary Cov’erdale’s Courtship,” 1 50 

The Red Court Farm. By Mrs. Henry AVood, author of ‘‘East Lynne,” 1 50 
Mildred Arkell. By Mrs. Henry AVood, author of “ Red Court Farm,” 1 50 

The Earl’s Secret. A Love Story. By Miss Pardoe, 1 50 

The Adopted Heir. By Miss Pardoe, author of “The Earl’s Secret,” 1 50 
Cousin Harry. By Mrs. Grey, author of “ The Gambler’s AA’ife,” etc. 1 50 

The Conscript. A Tale of AVar. By Alexander Dumas, 1 50 

The Tower of London. By AV. Harrison Ainsworth. Illustrated,... 1 50 

French, German, Latin, Spanish, and Italian without a Master, 1 50 

Shoulder Straps. By Henry Morford, author of “Days of Shoddy,” 1 50 

D.iys of Shoddy, and The Coward. By Henry Morford, each 1 50 

The Cavalier, and Lord Montague’s Page. By G. P. R. James, each 1 50 
Rose Foster. By George AV. M. Reynolds, Esq., 1 60 

The above books are each in paper cover, or in cloth, price $1.75 each. 
Hans Broitmann’s Ballads, complete and entire, with a full glossary, $3 00 


Books sent, postage paid, on receipt of the Retail Price, hj 
T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa. 


4 T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS’ PUBLICATIONS, 


WORKS BY THE VERY BEST AUTHORS. 

The following books are each issued in one large octavo volume, in 2>ai)et 
cover, at $1.50 each, or each one is bound in cloth, at $2,00 each. 

The Wandering Jew. By Eugene Sue. Full of Illustrations, $1 59 

Mysteries of Paris ; and its Sequel, Gerolstein. By Eugene Sue,.... 1 50 

Martin, the Foundling. By Eugene Sue. Full of Illustrations, 1 50 

Ten Thousand a Year. By Samuel C. Warren. With Illustrations, 150 

Washington and His Generals. By George Lippard... 1 50 

The Quaker City; or, the Monks of Monk Hall. By George Lippard, 1 50 

Blanche of Brandywine. By George Lippard, 1 50 

Paul Ardenheim ; the Monk of Wissahickon. By George Lippard,. 1 50 
The above books are each in paper cover, or in cloth, price $2.00 each. 
The following are each issued in one volume, bound in cloth, gilt hack. 

Charles O’Malley, the Irish Dragoon. By Charles Lever, $2 00 

Harry Lorrequer. With his Confessions. -By Charles Lever, 2 00 

Jack Hinton, the Guardsman. By Charles Lever, 2 00 

Davenport Dunn. A Man of Our Day. By Charles Lever, 2 00 

Valentine Vox, the Ventriloquist. By Harry Cockton, 2 00 

NEW AND GOOD BOOKS BY BEST AUTHORS. 

The Last Athenian. From the Swedish of Victor Kydberg. Highly 

recommended by Fredrika Bremer. Paper $1.50, or in cloth, $2 00 

Comstock’s Elocution and Reader. Enlarged. By Andrew Comstock 

and Philip Lawrence. With 236 Illustrations. Half morocco, 2 00 

Comstock’s Colored Chart. Every School should have a copy of it. ...5 00 
Across the Atlantic. Letters from France, Switzerland, Germany, 

Italy, and England. By C. H. Haeseler, M.D. Bound in cloth,... 2 00 
Colonel John W. Forney’s Letters from Europe. Bound in cloth,... 1 75 
The Ladies’ Guide to True Politeness and Perfect Manners. By 
Miss Leslie. Every lady should have it. Cloth, full gilt back,... 1 75 
The Ladies’ Complete Guide to Needlework and Embroidery. With 

113 illustrations. Bj' Miss Lambert. Cloth, full gilt back, 1 75 

The Ladles’ Work Table Book. With 27 illustrations. Cloth, gilt,. 1 50 
The Story of Elizabeth. By Miss Thackeray, paper $1 .00, or cloth,... 1 50 
Life and Adventures of Don Quixote and his Squire Sancho Panza, 
complete in one large volume, paper cover, for $1.00, or in cloth,.. 1 50 
The Laws and Practice of Game of Euchre. By a Professor. Cloth, 1 00 


Whitefriars ; or. The Days of Charles the Second. Illustrated, 1 00 

HUMOROUS ILLUSTRATED WORKS. 

Each one full of Illustrations, by Felix 0. C. Barley, and hound in Cloth. 

Major Jones’ Courtship and Travels. With 21 Illustrations, $1 7S 

Major .Jones’ Scenes in Georgia. With 16 Illustrations,... 1 75 

Simon Suggs’ Adventures and Travels. With 17 Illustrations, 1 75 

Swamp Doctor's Adventures in the South-West. 14 Illustrations,... 1 75 

Col. Thorpe’s Scenes in Arkansaw. With 16 Illustrations, 1 75 

The Big Bear’s Adventures and Travels. With 18 Illustrations, 1 75 

High Life in New York, by Jonathan Slick. With Illustrations,.... 1 75 

Judge Haliburton’s Yankee Stories. Illustrated, 1 75 

Harry Coverdale’s Courtship and Marriage. Illustrated, 1 75 

Piney Wood’s Tavern ; or, Sam Slick in Texas. Illustrated,.... 1 75 


Sam Slick, the Clockmaker. By Judge Haliburton. Illustrated,... 1 75 
Humors of Falconbridge. By J. F. Kelley. With illustrations, ... 1 75 

Modern Chivalry. By Judge Breckenridge. Two vols., each 1 75 

Neal’s Charcoal Sketches. By Joseph C. Neal. 21 Illustrations,... 2 50 


Books sent, postage paid, on Receipt of the Retail Price, hy 
T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa. 


T. B. PETEESOIJ & BEOTHERS’ PUBLICATIONS. 5 


CHAKLES DICKENS’ WORKS. 

GREAT REDUCTION IN THEIR PRICES. 


PEOPLE’S DUODECIMO EDITION. ILLUSTRATED. 

Jieduced in price from $2.50 to $1.50 a volume. 

Thit edition is printed on fne paper, from large, clear type, leaded, that 
all can read, containing One Hundred and Eighty Illustrations on tinted 
paper, and each book is complete in one large duodecimo volume. 


Our Mutual Friend, Cloth, $1.50 

Pickwick Papers, Cloth, 1.50 

Nicholas Nickleby, Cloth, 1.50 

Great Expectations, Cloth, 1.50 

David Copperfield, Cloth, 1.50 

Oliver Twist, Cloth, 1.50 

Bleak House, Cloth, 1.50 

A Tale of Two Cities,. ...Cloth, 1.50 


Little Dorrit, Cloth, $1.50 

Dombey and Son, Cloth, 1.50 

Christmas Stories, Cloth, 

Sketches by“Boz,” Cloth, 

Barnaby Rudge, Cloth, 

Martin Chuzzlewit, Cloth, 

Old Curiosity Shop, Cloth, 

Dickens’ New Stories,... .Cloth, 


1 . 5 ? 

1.50 

1.50 

1.50 

].50 

1.50 

1.50 

1.50 

1.50 


a 

n 

it 

tt 

u 

tt 

it 

it 

tt 

tt 


American Notes; and The Uncommercial Traveler, Cloth, 

Hunted Down; and other Reprinted Pieces, Cloth, 

The Holly-Tree Inn; and other Stories, Cloth, 

Price of a set, in Black cloth, in nineteen volumes, $28.00 

Full sheep. Library style, 38.00 

Half calf, sprinkled edges, 47.00 

Half calf, marbled edges, 53.00 

Half calf, antique, 57.00 

Half calf, full gilt backs, etc., 57.00 

ILLUSTRATED DUODECIMO EDITION. 

Reduced in price from $2.00 to $1.50 a volume. 

This edition is printed on the finest paper, from large, clear type, leaded, 
Long Primer in size, that all can read, the whole containing near Six 
Hundred full page Illustrations, printed on tinted paper, from designs by 
Cruikshank, Phiz, Browne, Maclise, McLenan, and other artists. The fol- 
lowing books are each contained in two volumes. 


Our Mutual Friend, Cloth, $3.00 

Pickwick Papers Cloth, 3.00 

Tale of Two Cities, Cloth, 3.00 

Nicholas Nickleby, Cloth, 3.00 

David Copperfield, Cloth, 3.00 

Oliv'er Twist, Cloth, 3.00 

Christmas Stories, Cloth, 3.00 


Bleak House, Cloth, $3.00 

Sketches by “ Boz,” Cloth, 3.00 

Barnaby Rudge, Cloth, 3.00 

Martin Chuzzlewit, Cloth, 3.00 

Old Curiosity Shop, Cloth, S.OO 

Little Dorrit, Cloth, 3.00 

Dombey and Son, Cloth, 3.00 


The following are each complete in one volume, and are reduced in price 
from $2.50 to $1.50 a volume. 



The Holly-Tree Inn; and other Stories,. 

Price of a set, in thirty-three volumes, bound in cloth, 

« « Full sheep. Library style, 

« « Half calf, antique, «9.00 

« « Half calf, full gilt backs, etc., 


Books sent, postage paid, on receipt of the Retail Price, by 
T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa. 


e To B. PETEESON & BEOTHEES’ PUBLICATIONS. 


CHARLES DICKENS’ WORKS. 

ILLUST2ATED OCTAVO EDITION. 

Reduced in price from $2.50 to $1.75 a volume. 

Tins edition is printed from large type, double column, octavo page, each 
book being complete in one volume, the whole containing near Six Hundred 
Illustrations, by Cruikshank, Phiz, Browne, Maclise, and other artists. 


David Copperfield, Cloth, $1 75 

Barnaby Rudge, Cloth, 1.75 

Martin Chuzzlewit, Cloth, 1.75 

Old Curiosity Shop, Cloth, 1.75 

Christmas Stories, Cloth, 1.75 

Dickens’ New Stories, ...Cloth, 1.75 
A Tale of Two Cities,. ..Cloth, 1.75 
American Notes and 

Pie-Nic Papers, Cloth, 


1.75 


Our Mutual Friend, Cloth, $1.75 

Pickwick Papers, Cloth, 1.75 

Nicholas Nickleby, Cloth, 1.75 

Great Expectations, Cloth, 1.75 

Damplighter’s Story,.... Cloth, 1.75 

Oliver Twist, Cloth, 1.75 

Bleak House, Cloth, 1.75 

Little Dorrit, Cloth, 1.75 

Dombey and Son, Cloth, 1.75 

Sketches by “ Boz,” Cloth, 1.75 

Price of a set, in Black cloth, in eighteen volumes, $31.50 

“ “ Full sheep. Library style, 40.00 

“ Half calf, sprinkled edges, 48.00 

“ Half calf, marbled edges, 54.00 

“ Half calf, antique, 60.00 

“ Half calf, full gilt backs, etc., 60.00 

. “NEW NATIONAL EDITION” OF DICKENS’ WCKKS. 

This is the cheapest complete edition of the works of Charles Dickens, 

Boz,” published in the world, being contained in seven large octavo vol- 
umes, with a portrait of Charles Dickens, and other illustrations, the whole 
making nearly six thousand very large double columned pages, in large, clear 
type, handsomely printed on fine white paper, and bound in the stronge-^t 
and most substantial manner. 

Price of a set, in Black cloth, in seven volumes, $20.00 

“ Full sheep. Library style, 25.00 

“ Half calf, antique, 30.00 

“ “ Half calf, full gilt back, etc., 30.00 

CHEAP SALMON PAPER COVER EDITION. 

Each book being complete in one large octavo volume. 


Pickwick Papers, 35 

Nicholas Nickleby, 35 

Dombey and Son, 35 

D ivid Copperfield, 25 

Martin Chuzzlewit, 35 

Old Curiosity Shop, 25 

Oliver Twist 25 

American Notes, 25 

Great Expectations, 25 

Hird Times, 25 

A Tale of Two Cities, 25 

Somebody’s Luggage, 25 

Message from the Sea., 25 

Barnaby Rudge, 25 

Sketches by“I?oz,” 25 


Christmas Stories, 25 

The Haunted House, 25 

Uncommercial Traveler, 25 

A House to Let, 25 

Perils of English Prisoners, 25 

Wreck of the Golden Mary, 25 

Tom Tiddler’s Ground, 25 

Our Mutual Friend, 35 

Bleak House, 35 

Little Dorrit, 35 

Joseph Grimaldi, 50 

The Pie-Nic Papers, 50 

No Thoroughfare 10 

Hunted Down, 2» 

The Holly-Tree Inn, 25 


Mrs. Lirriper’s Lodgings and Mrs. Lirriper’s Legacy, 25 

Mugby Junction and Dr. Marigold’s Prescriptions, 25 


1^* Books sent, postage paid, on receipt of the Retail Price, b;f 
T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa. 


T. B. PETEBSON & BEOTHEES' PUBLICATIONS. 7 


CHAELES LEVEE’S BEST WOEKS. 


Charles O’Malley, 75 

Alarry Lorrequer, 75 

Jack Hinton, the Guardsman,... 75 
Tom Burke of Ours, 75 


Knight of Gvvynne, 75 

Arthur O’Leary,. 75 

Con Cregan, 75 

Davenport Dunn, 75 


Above are each in paper, or a finer eclition’in cloth, price $2.00 each. 
Horace Templeton, 75 j Kate O’Donoghue, 75 

EMERSON BENNETT’S WORKS* 


The Border Rover, 1 50 

Clara Moreland, 1 50 

Viola; or Adventures in the 

Far South-West, 1 60 

The above are each in paper cover, or in cloth, price $1.75 each. 

The Heiress of Bellefonte, and I Pioneer’s Daughter and the 
Walde-Warren, 75 I Unknown Countess, 75 


Bride of the Wilderness, 1 50 

Ellen Norbury, 1 60 

The Forged Will, 1 50 

Kate Clarendon, 1 50 


" WILKIE COLLINS’ BEST WORKS. 

The Crossed Path, or Basil,.... 1 50 1 The Dead Secret. 12mo. 


1 50 


The above are each in paper cover, or in cloth, price $1.75 each. 


Hide and Seek, 75 

After Dark, 75 

Tlie Queen’s Revenge, 75 

Mad Monkton, 50 

MISS PARDOE’S WORKS. 


Sights a-Foot, 50 

The Stolen Mask, 25 

The Yellow Mask, 25 

Sister Rose, 25 


The Rival Beauties, 75 

Romance of the Harem, 75 


Confessions of a Pretty Woman, 75 

The Wife’s Trials, 75 

The Jealous Wife, 50 

The five above books are also bound in one volume, cloth, for $4.00. 

The Adopted Heir. One volume, paper, $1,50 ; or in cloth, $1 75 

The Earl’s Secret. One volume, paper, $1.50; or in cloth, 1 75 

XiIRS. HENRY WOOD’S BOOKS. 

Oswald Cray, 1 50 

Verner’s Pride, 1 60 

Lord Oakburn’s Daughters ; or, 

the Earl’s Heirs, 1 

Squire Trevlyn’s Heir ; or, 

Trevlyn Hold, 1 

The Castle’s Heir; or, Lady 
Adelaide’s Oath, 1 50 


50 

50 


George Canterbury’s Will, 1 50 

Roland Y’^orke, 1 

The Channings, 1 50 

Red Court Farm, 1 50 

Elster’s Folly, 1 50 

St. Martin’s Eve, 1 50 

Mildred Arkell, 1 50 

Shadow of Ashlydyat, 1 50 , 

Above are each in paper cover, or each one in cloth, for $l.to eacdi. 

Tlw. Mv«»terv 75 ! A Life’s Secret, 50 

Above are each in paper cover, or each one in cloth, for $1.00 each. 
Orville College 50 The Lo.==t Bank Note, 75 


The Runaway Match, 50 


The Lo.st AVill 5(r William Allair 


50 


Foggy Night at OfTord, 25 


A Light and a Dark Christmas, 


25 

25 


The Haunted Tower, 

mss BEADDON’S WOEKS. 

A nrnrn FIot<1 1 'O’® Secret, 25 

For Better, For Worse, 


70 


1^^ Books sent, postage paid, on receipt of the Retail Price, by 
T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa. 


8 T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS’ PUBLICATIONS. 


ALEXANDER DUMAS’ WORKS. 


Count of Monte Cristo, 1 50 

The Iron Mask, 1 00 

Louise La Valliere, 1 00 

Adventures of a Marquis, 1 00 

Diana of Meridor, 1 00 

The Three Guardsmen, 75 

Twenty Years After, 75 

Bragelonne; the Son of Athos, 75 


Memoirs of a Physician, 

Queen’s Necklace, 

Six Y^ears Later, 

Countess of Charn<ey, 

Andree de Taverney, 

The Chevalier, 

Forty-five Guardsmen, 

The Iron Hand, 

Camille, “The Camelia Lady,’ 


The Conscript. A Tale of War, 1 60 

Love and Liberty. A Tale of the French Revolution of 1792, 

The above are each in paper cover, or in cloth, 'price $1.75 each. 


00 

00 

00 

00 

00 

00 

75 

75 

50 

50 


Edmond Dantes, 


75 

Man with Five AVives, 

75 

Felina de Chambure, 


75 

Twin Lieutenants, 

75 

The Horrors of Paris, 


75 

Annette, Lady of the Pearls,.... 

60 

The Fallen Angel, 


75 

Mohicans of Paris, 

60 

Sketches in France, 


75 

The Marriage Verdict, 

60 

Isabel of Bavaria, 


7.5 

The Corsican Brothers, 

60 

Count of Moret, 50 | 

George, 


25 

GEORGE W. 

M. 

REYNOLDS’ WORKS. 


Mysteries of Court of London 

,.. 1 

00 

Mary Price, 

1 00 

Rose Foster. Sequel to it,.. 

... 1 

50 

Eustace Quentin, 

] 00 

Caroline of Brunswick, 

... 1 

00 

Joseph AVilmot, 

1 00 

Venetia Trelawney, 

... 1 

00 

Banker’s Daughter, 

1 00 

Lord Saxondale, 

... 1 

00 

Kenneth, 

1 00 

Count Christoval, 

... 1 

00 

The Rye-House Plot, 

1 00 

Rosa Lambert, 


00 

The Necromancer, 

1 00 

The above are each in paper cover 

or in cloth, price $1.75 each. 


The Opera Dancer, 


75 

The Soldier’s AA’ife, 

75 

Child of Waterloo, 


75 

May Middleton, 

75 

Robert Bruce, 


75 

Duke of March raont, 

75 

Discarded Queen, 


75 

Massacre of Glencoe, 

75 

The Gipsy Chief, 


75 

Queen Joanna; Court Naples, 

75 

Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots, 

• •• 

75 

Pickwick Abroad, 

75 

Wallace, the Hero of Scotland, 1 

00 

Parricide, 

75 

Isabella Vincent, 


75 

The Ruined Gamester, 

60 

Vivian Bertram, 


75 

Ciprina; or, the Secrets of a 


Countess of Lascelles, 


75 

Picture Gallery, 

60 

Loves of the Harem, 


75 

Life in Paris, 

60 

Ellen Percy, 


75 

Countess and the Page, 

60 

Agnes Evelyn, 


75 

Edgar Montrose, 

60 


EUGENE SUE’S 

Wandering Jew, 1 50 

i\Iysteries of Paris, 1 60 

Martin, the Foundling, 1 50 

Above in cloth at $2.00 each. 

Life and Adventures of Raoul De Surville,. 


GREAT WORKS. 

First Love, 

Woman's Love, 

Female Bluebeard, 

Man-of-War’s-Man, 


50 

50 

50 

50 

25 


MADAME GEORGE 


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Countess of Rudolstadt, 75 

First and True Love, 75 

The Corsair, 50 

Jealousy, paper, 1 50 

Do. cloth, 1 75 


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Fanchon, the Cricket, paper,.'.. 1 CO 
Do. do. cloth,... 1 50 

Indiana, a Love Story, paper,. 1 50 
Do. do. cloth,... 1 75 

Consuelo and Rudolstadt, both 
in one volume, cloth, 2 00 


1^* Books sent, postage paid, on receipt of the Retail Price, by 
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T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS’ PUBLICATIONS. 9 


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Beautt/ully illustrated hy Felix 0. C. Barley. 


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Pineville, 75 

Polly Peablossom’s Wedding,.. 75 

Mysteries of the B:ickvvoods,... 75 

Widow Rugby’s Husband, 75 

Big Bear of Arkansas 75 

Western Scenes; or, Life on 

the Prairie, 75 

Streaks of Squatter Life, 75 

Pickings from the Picayune,... 75 

Stray Subjects, Arrested and 

Bound Over, 75 

Louisiana Swamp Doctor, 75 

Charcoal Sketches, 75 

Misfortunes of Peter Faber,.... 75 

Yankee among the Mermaids,.. 75 

New Orleans Sketch Book, 75 


Drama in Pokerville, 

The Quorndon Hounds, 

My Shooting Box, 

Warwick Woodlands, 

The Deer Stalkers, 

Peter Ploddj', 

Adventures of Captain Farrago, 
Major O'Regan’s Adventures,.. 
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ticeship, 

Sol. Smith’s Theatrical Jour 

ney-Work, 

The Quarter Race in Kentucky, 

Aunt Patty’s Scrap Bag, 

Percival Mayberry’s Adven- 
tures and Travels, 

Sam Slick’s Yankee Yarns and 

Yankee Letters, 

Adventures of Fudge Fumble,. 

American Joe Miller, 

Following the Drum, 


75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

50 

50 


Henrietta Temple,, 

Vivian Grey, 

Venetia, 


DISRAELI’S WORKS. 


50 

75 

50 


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Miriam Alroy, 

Contarina Fleming,. 


50 

50 

50 


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Lewis Arundel, 75 I Tom Racquet, 75 

Finer editions of above are also issued in cloth, at $1.75 each. 

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The above are each in paper cover, or in cloth, price $1.75 each. 


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The Old Stone Mansion, 1 50 1 Kate Aylesford, 1 50 

The above are each in paper cover, or in cloth, price $1.75 each. 

Cruising in the Last War, 75 I Grace Dudley; or, Arnold at 

Valley Farm, 25 1 Saratoga, 50 


JAMES A. MAITLAND’S WORKS. 


The Old Patroon, 

1 

50 1 

Diary of an Old Doctor, 

... 1 

60 

The Watchman, 

1 

50 1 

Sartaroe, 

... 1 

50 

The Wanderer,... 

1 

50 

The Three Cousins, 

... 1 

50 

The Lawyer’s Story, 

1 

50 I 

i 




The above are each in paper cover, or in cloth, price $1.75 each. 


WILLIAM H. MAXWELL’S WORKS. 

Wild Sports of the West 75 j Brian O’Lynn, 75 

Stories of Waterloo, 75 I 


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10 T. B. PETEBSOJT & BBOTHERS’ PUBLICATIOJTS. 


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Above in 1 vol., cloth, $1.75. 

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G. P. B. JAMES 

Lord Montague’s Page, 1 50 

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Mary of Burgundy, 75 


Tower of London,.... 1 5( 

Miser’s Daughter, 1 OG 

Above in cloth $1.75 each. 

Life of Grace O’Malley, 50 

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Life of Mrs. Whipple and Jes- 
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or in cloth, price $1.75 each. 

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Ten Thousand a Year,. ..paper, 1 50 i Diary of a Medical Student,.. 75 
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Plu-lli-Bus-Tah, 1 50 1 Witches of New York, 1 50 

The above are each in paper cover, or in cloth, price $1.75 each. 


GREEN’S WORKS ON GAMBLING. 

Gambling Exposed, 1 50 I The Reformed Gambler, 1 50 

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Above are each in paper cover, or each one in cloth, for $1.75 each. 


MISS ELLEN PICKERING’S WORKS. 


The Grumbler, 

Marrying for Money, 

Poor Cousin, 

Kate Walsingham, ... 
Orphan Niece, 


75 

75 

50 

50 

50 


Who Shall be Heir?, 

The Squire, 

Ellen Warehain, 

Nan Darrel, 


38 

38 

38 

38 


CAPTAIN MARRYATT’S WORKS. 


Jacob Faithful, 

50 

Newton Forster, 

Japhetin Search of a Father,.. 

60 

King’s Own 

Phantom Ship 

50 

Pirate and Three Cutters, 

Midshipman Easy, 

50 

Peter Simple, 

Pacha of Many Tales, 

50 

Percival Keene, 

Frank Mildraay, Naval Officer, 

60 

Poor Jack, 

Suarleyow, 

60 

Sea King, 


50 

50 

60 

50 

50 

60 

50 


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«a-THE CHEAPEST AND BEST.-«> 


SPLENDID OFFERS FOR 1871. 


PETERSON’S MAGAZINE hag the best Original Stories of any of the lady’s 
books, the best Colored Fashion Plates, the best Steel Engravings, Ac., Ac. Every 
family ought to take it. It gives more for the money than any in the world. It will 
contain, for 1871, in its twelve numbers — 

ONE THOUSAND PAGES ! 

FOURTEEN SPUENDSD STEEE PUATES? 

TWEIiVE UOEORED BEREIN PATTERNS I 
TWEEVE MAMMOTH COUORED FASHIONS ! 
NINE HUNDRED WOOD CUTS! 

TWENTY-FOUR PAGES OF MUSIC! 

It will also give Five Original Copyright Novelets, by Mrs. Ann S. Stephens, 
Prank Lee Benedict, and others of the best authors of America. Also, nearly a 
hundred shorter sto7~ies, ALL original. Its superb 

MAMMOTH COLORED FASHION PLATES 

are ahead of all others. These plates are engraved on steel, twice ^the usual size. 
It also gives receipts for cooking, for the nursery, for the toilet, for gardening, for 
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To every person getting up a Club of four, at $1.50 each, 
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While to those getting up Clubs of eight, at $1.50 each, an extra copy of the 
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TERMS — Always in Advance: 


1 Copy, for one year $ 2 00 

4 Copies 6 00 

8 “ 12 00 


PREMIUMS. 

Remember that every person getting up a Club of four, at $1.50 each, shall re« 
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llagazine for 1871 ! I Specimens sent free, to those wishing to get up Clubs. 

Address, CHARLES J. PETERSON, 

305 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa. 




T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS, No. 306 Chestnut Street, 
Philadelphia, have just issued an entire new, complete, and 
uniform edition of all the celebrated Novels written by Mrs. 
Caroline Lee Hentz, in twelve large duodecimo volumes. They 
are printed on the finest paper, and bound in the most beautiful 
style, in Green Morocco cloth, with a new, full gilt back, and 
sold at the low price of $1.75 eac'h, in Morocco cloth ; or in 
paper cover, at $1.50 each ; or a complete set of the twelve vol- 
umes, in Morocco cloth, will be sent to any one, to any place, free 
of postage, on receipt of Twenty Dollars, by the publishers. 


The following are the names of the twelve volumes: 

LINDA; OR, THE YOUNG PILOT OF THE BELLE CREOLE. With 
a complete Biography of Mrs. Caroline Lee Hentz. 

ROBERT GRAHAM. A Sequel to “Linda; or, The Young Pilot 
of the Belle Creole.” 


RENA ; or, THE SNOW BIRD. A Tale of Real Life. 

MARCUS WARLAND ; or, The Long Moss Spring. 

ERNEST LINWOOD ; or, The Inner Life of the Author. 

EOLINE; or, MAGNOLIA VALE; or, The Heiress of Glenmore. 

THE PLANTER’S NORTHERN BRIDE; or, Scenes in Mrs. Hentz’s 
Childhood. 

HELEN AND ARTHUR; or, Miss Thusa’s Spinning-Wheel. 

COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE ; or. The Joys and Sorrows of 
American Life. 

LOVE AFTER MARRIAGE; and other Stories of the Heart. 

THE LOST DAUGHTER; and other Stories of the Heart. 

THE BANISHED SON ; and other Stories of the Heart. 

The above twelve books have proved to be the most popular 
series of Novels ever issued in this country, as they are written 
by one of the most popular Female Novelists that ever lived. 

Each of the above twelve books are complete in one volume, 
duodecimo, bound in Green Morocco Cloth, with a new, full gilt 
back, price $1.75 each ; or a complete set, done up in a neat 
box, for $20.00 ; or each book is done up in paper cover, price 
$1.50 each ; or $17.00 for a complete set. 

Address all orders, at once, to receive immediate and prompt 
attention, for all or any of the above books, to the Publishers, 

T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS, 

No. 306 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa. 


Above Boohs are for sale by all Booksellers, or copies of any of them 
will be sent, post-paid, to any place, on receipt of price byjhe pxiy dsh^ r^ 











